Fall from Grace
by IsabellaWinxSirenix
Summary: When one act of cruelty leads to another, WordGirl finds herself spiraling into a vortex of evil she tried so hard to destroy. With no one to turn to, will WordGirl ever return to the path of goodness? Is there a hero anymore? Will she be able to defeat the greatest evil of all: herself? Alternative ending to The Rise of Miss Power. Rated T for blood, guns, arson, and murder.
1. Burning Power

**Hi! Okay, so in case you didn't read the author's note in Ashes of a New Horizon, I am temporarily putting that story on hiatus due to a drainage of inspiration. I know, I hate it too. Curse you, muses! Please, please, PLEASE don't be mad at me! :( I figured the best way to get my creativity back was to work on something different for a while, so here I am! As I said in the summary, this multi-chapter story is about WordGirl becoming evil. No, I am not going to do the cliche 'evil ray/mind control/magical thingy/whatever'. She will become evil entirely of her own accord. Now let's get started.**_  
_

**This story was inspired by Envious to a T by Devin Trinidad. Miss Power's origin story was inspired by The Looking Glass Wars, written by Frank Beddor (actual book).**

**This story is completely independent of Radiance; however, I will make little references to the series, such as repeating the name Queen Islanzadi. Also, in all my stories, Becky's Lexiconian name will always be Alexandria Theia just for the sake of consistency. **

**Songs:  
Miss Power: Exodus by Evanescence**

**BTW, since disclaimers are utterly pointless, I won't even bother. You all know I don't own WordGirl, so that's good enough for me.**

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_"I never dreamed of a perfect life, just a happy one. I hoped for simple things: a family, a job, to get married to Scoops, to be happy. There were so many dreams meant for a world without fear, hate, or regret, a world where joy is given a chance to thrive and flourish, not throttled by the cruelty of others. I dreamed that heroes would always win, and that there would always be a happy ending, just like a fairytale. Some part of me knew it wasn't true, but it was better, easier to believe. Despite its longevity, it never ceases to amaze me how easily that innocence shattered. I lived in that blissful state of dreaming for ten years, never fully able to see the world and all its hate, a hatred that will forever be a part of me. I suppose should have seen it coming. After all, dreams never live past the hideous truth of the rising sun. No one can sleep forever. Not even in death. Not even in Hell. Not even in my dreams. Dreams will always die._

_"This is how I woke up."_

_~ Becky_

* * *

Miss Power gazed with pride upon the statue of herself and Captain Gigglecheeks. It was a perfect tribute to the new reign that would besiege this primitive planet. This city would be only the first to fall under her invincible power. Once she gained total control of Planet Earth, the entire Andromenia Universe would be united under her, and peace – yes, peace – would dominate. That's what people didn't understand about civilization. The reason wars and intolerance spread like a plague was because the planets were divided amongst themselves, unable to agree. Power ran too thin without a proper leader, so thin that it had all but vanished. People were foolish, uneducated, and stupid, and yet they were given the ability to control their own destiny! Ridiculous! If one person had all the power, total control over free will, there would be no dissent, no break in unity. Everyone would become one and the same, so they wouldn't be able to fight one another, for to do so would be like driving a stake into one's own heart. Everyone would be exactly the same. After all, that was what peace was, right? Peace was good.

But vengeance was so much sweeter.

Then, like lightning blazing down from the heavens in a fiery wrath, a pair of lasers disintegrated Captain Gigglecheek's face as well as her own disfigured countenance. In rage, Miss Power turned to behold the impossible: all those pitiful, useless villains charging toward her, lead by that unbearable District Attorney. Honesty, did they truly believe they stood a chance against her? An inconceivable, naïve hope to be sure. Still, she knew the effects desperation and anger could have on a person. Unbidden, a painful memory took center stage in Miss Power's mind, erasing reality:

_"Cassandra?" questioned Queen Islanzadi of Planet Lexicon._

_The sullen teenage princess reluctantly got up from yet another one of her dangerous experiments, a favorite pastime of hers. A red rust sulfur filled the air, making the queen feel slightly nauseous. Of course, her parents disapproved of her creations, especially when they involved Lexonite. Lexonite was a highly dangerous mineral, fatal to Lexiconians, and yet Princess Cassandra had managed to use the toxic mineral in power-stimulants._

_"What, Mom?" she snapped, already expecting one of her three-hour complaints on not fulfilling her duty, ignoring the principals of honor, peace, integrity, blah, blah, blah._

_"Don't you take that tone with me, young lady," the queen scolded, her luminous amethyst eyes and blazing red hair making her look like a goddess on fire. That was another thing: her mother's expectations. Whether it was virtues, knowledge, beauty, Queen Islanzadi was always perfect. How could she, her daughter, possibly live up to such impossible, self-righteous standards? And now, just when Cassandra had found something her mother couldn't do, something to separate her from that awful shadow, what did Islanzadi do? There was no praise, no amazement, not even a hug. No, Cassandra had been a 'bad girl', had done something wrong by discovering her true talent, and was forbidden from doing it again. So what if it was dangerous? She was happy, so why did her mother have to change her? Why couldn't she accept her daughter for who she was?_

_"Your father and I have discussed this for quite some time," the queen began. "And while both of us are deeply troubled by this, we fear we have no choice. Your behavior is intolerable, and so I am forced to revoke your royal title as heiress to the throne of Lexicon. Your cousin, Alexandria Theia, will become my successor." Then, Cassandra's priceless diamond tiara, a symbol of her royalty, shattered under the power of Queen Islanzadi's disownment._

_The world came crashing down upon Cassandra. She wasn't a princess anymore? Impossible! The title was hers by birthright, and no one could ever change that. And Alexandria was a mere two years old! How could that spoiled toddler brat cheat her out of her title? It was definition of mockery, and Cassandra wouldn't stand for it._

_"Fine!" she screamed. "Disown me! I don't care! You never loved me anyway, so of course you would place that baby above me, your own daughter! What kind of a mother are you?"_

_To Cassandra's surprise, tears sparked in Queen Islanzadi's eyes. "Oh Cassandra, honey, I'm–"_

_"NO!" she shouted. "Don't you dare say, 'I'm sorry'! Sorry implies love, something you've never had for me! If you truly hate me so much, why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"_

_"Because I'm your mother," she said gently, her voice quivering with sorrow, but Cassandra couldn't hear it. The fragile, tentative connection tying her to her mother had shattered, leaving an empty, loveless void in its place._

_"I have no mother," Cassandra declared vehemently. At the speed of a nuclear missile, the violate Lexiconian ex-princess stormed out of the palace that was no longer her home. Taking to the sky, she fumed for hours as she floated on a cloud, rage churning in her heart, obliterating all reason. Her pale yellow hair whipped wildly in the breeze, with Cassandra shivering violently, her flimsy sky blue, silk gown providing inadequate warmth. This was the image of a girl who had lost everything with no one to turn to, a girl without hope. _

_Although Cassandra would never admit it, she was scared. Her royalty was one of the major aspects that defined her, if not the biggest. Without it, it felt like an irreplaceable piece of her had been torn away, taking away her identity. She didn't know who she was without it. Now, she was nothing but a mere primitive commoner, good for nothing in the world. No one would ever notice her, for in all Cassandra's experience, people paid attention to those in control. People in power always received whatever they desired, be it money or glory or adoration. In her world, power was often the equivalent of love. She wanted, no, needed love, something she had never received enough of in regards to her mother. So, if love equaled power, and power was being the Princess of Lexicon, all she had to do was regain her royalty. The only question was how. She wasn't powerful to take it by force, and her mother didn't love her enough to restore her status out of free will, leaving Cassandra in the exact same position as before. It seemed her destiny was now to be a despised, unlovable creature, who would be crushed by higher powers until the day she died. _

_Just then, Cassandra heard a faint squeak from behind her, a sound she would recognize anywhere._

_"Not now, Gigglecheeks," she said in a tone of depression, teetering on the verge of tears, addressing her monkey pet from the bizarre jungles of the moon, Dras-Animi. The peculiar creature wrapped its extendable arms around its owner in a display of comfort. Grateful for the support, Cassandra patted his head, allowing him to take up a seat on her opposite side._

_"I just don't know what to do," she cried to her confidant, the last vestiges of her anger fading into sorrow. "I want to become a princess again, but how do I become powerful enough to defeat my mother?"_

_Expecting a sympathetic condolence, she was quite surprised when Gigglecheeks extracted a vial of toxic acid green liquid as a means of response to her rhetorical question. At once, Cassandra's face lit up with hope. Of course! How had she not realized it before? She had been working on chemical component to dramatically enhance her superpowers! Sure, it was only a prototype and came with unknown side effects, but Cassandra was too upset to care. Hastily, she gulped down the entire mixture, grimacing as she felt the poisonous Lexonite sear down her throat like liquid fire. It hurt, but she was so emotionally torn apart that she didn't notice. At once, she felt the effects of her apparently successful experiment. An uncontrollable electric charge rushed through her nervous system, heightening her senses and making her brain's processing lightning quick. Pure, undiluted energy rushed through every pore of her skin, giving her unbelievable strength and speed, even by Lexiconian standards. _

_Once the transformation was complete and the pain dulled, Cassandra felt simply wonderful, her face glowing with a profound happiness she hadn't experienced in well… ever! It felt as though there was nothing holding her back, she didn't have to hide who she was anymore, she was finally free._

_Gigglecheeks was quite pleased with his owner's sudden euphoria. He clapped appreciatively, but in his haste, he sent the vial, still containing a small portion of the concoction, flying through the air at Cassandra. The potion leaped from the bottle, glinting dangerously in the sunlight, spattering itself on the left side of her face._

_An agonizing burning sensation flashed on her skin, drowning Cassandra in absolute pain. She clutched her inflamed face, tormented to the point where she was practically pleading for death. The pain was so potent, so absolute, that Cassandra forgot her own name, so lost in torment that she no longer knew what life was worth living for. Countless gruesome murders, tortures, and wars blurred through her mind, painting her eyes a permanent red, red as the ocean of blood she drowned in. There was so much violence, so much hate, all Cassandra wanted was an end to it all, to achieve an everlasting peace for all people. She screamed and screamed, trapped inside her own head, insane with witnessing firsthand all the violence in all planets. Cassandra despised it, and yet some horrendous monstrosity inside her relished it and desired more. That monster grew larger and larger until it twisted her heart, with the former Cassandra hurtling into an endless abyss of darkness, never to see the sun again._

_"Cassandra!" squeaked Gigglecheeks in terror for her well-being. Groggily shaking her head free of those terrifying images, Cassandra opened her eyes. Instead of giving his mistress an embrace of relief, the alien monkey had his eyes bulging in fear, overflowing with tears of pity._

_"Gigglecheeks…?" questioned the Lexiconian 16-year-old, taken aback by his unusual behavior. He simply shook his head in silence, pointing to one of Lexicon's towering glass structures._

_Cassandra gasped at her reflection. Her once beautiful face was now horrendously disfigured, a nasty green visage covering the exact place where the poison had made contact with her skin. She now sported an ugly yellow snake's eye, bulging in her socket and horribly contrasting with her sparkling, normal blue eye on the right._

_Amazingly, the disfiguration didn't trouble her. It didn't matter what she looked like as long as she had the power to defeat her mother._

_"Come on, Gigglecheeks," commanded Cassandra, making a beeline to her former home._

_"What do you intend to do?" asked Gigglecheeks fearfully. Cassandra didn't answer; instead, she stood determinedly in the shadow of Lexicon's palace, adorned with pristine marble columns and glittering topaz gemstones. Formulating a devious plan, she super speeded inside and returned a millisecond later, waving a box of matches triumphantly. Fire was constant across every planet, as was air, earth, and water, the basic elements that formulated the universe. The monkey pet watched in shock as he witnessed Cassandra lighting a match and tossing it into the nearby flower bush, setting it ablaze. The fire illuminated her crazed, maniacal expression of glee as she watched the blaze spread, encompassing the entire palace, already smoldering the outer walls. _

_"Goodbye, Mother," Cassandra whispered malevolently, turning her back on her family, unaware that one person would survive. _

Snapping out of the memory, Miss Power rocketed at the impeding criminals, that decade old hatred still churning fresh in her heart.

They would all burn.

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**So that's Miss Power's origin story. Good? Bad? Strange? Next chapter will feature Becky and the beginning of her plunge into wickedness.**

**You're all probably harboring at least some resentment to me for discontinuing Radiance, but I hope you review anyway. Lightball? Happydreamer? TLBB? Anyone? *does puppydog eyes***

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	2. An Unforgivable Act

**First off, I got 13 reviews in one chapter! That has to be a record! I'd like to thank TLBB, darkleixrose16, happydreamer, KimDWill71, MissPowerPOV, lightball34, darksunshine200, and three Guests for helping me achieve that record. Now I'm scared I'm going to let you guys down. *bites nails nervously* Also, speaking of reviewers, I'd like to welcome my newest reviewer, darkleixrose16! Thanks for the kind words, and I hope you become one of my regulars, but if you don't, I understand.**

**In this chapter, I include some of the actual dialogue from TROMP, and this is where the story deviates from the movie's plot line. I probably screwed up some of the lines (Despite it being on YouTube - thanks, Mollie! - I haven't seen it in ages!). Just bear with me and feel free to correct me, you noble WG quoters. Also, the end of the chapter is violently OCC and creepy. You have been warned, alerted, and notified... Sorry, random LRW moment. :D**

**Also, WordGirl's twisted origin story comes into play via another ridiculously long, insanely conveniently-timed flashback.**

**By the way, on a completely random note, at the moment, I do not intend for this story to veer into the romance drama. So all of you who are hoping for a sudden TobeyxBecky hookup, or even a ScoopsxBecky hookup (good luck finding that one, folks :D) will be in for an extreme disappointment. I pretty much used up my entire lovey-dovey supple with Radiance – Becky dates four guys! – so read that if you're dying for romance. That, or Twilight. :D Believe it or not, I'm a Twilight girl *waits for the rotten tomatoes to come flying*. Still, I will make the occasional, age old 'Still a better love story than Twilight' gag.**

**Someone asked me about the cover photo. I make all my story covers myself. The crying angel was from a Google search – crying gothic angel. Then, using the app Pixelmator, I added the WG logo with sepia effect and the title written with Evanescent font.**

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"The descent beckons as the ascent beckoned."  
- William Carlos Williams, "The Descent"

* * *

Miss Power defeated the villains effortlessly, hardly tapping into her powers. After all, humans were just so breakable; her real challenge was hurtling toward her in a streak of gold.

That insufferable WordGirl. She should have been charred to ashes ten years ago, and yet Miss Power was in no hurry to end her life. Honestly, she was intrigued by the girl and wondered if there was more to her than met the eye, a powerful darkness just beneath the surface. It turns out there was tremendous power, even rivaling her own. Miss Power knew she should have done away with this threat then and there, and yet she had been ensnared by the fantastical illusion that with a little persuasion, the girl would turn on everyone she held dear to her heart. Of course, she was mistaken. Despite her power, WordGirl was just as idiotic as the people she protected. There was no chance of her being able to rule an entire planet! And here was Miss Power's chance to prove once and for all that she, not Alexandria, was the rightful Princess of Lexicon.

"Ah, WordGirl!" the alien dictator greeted with an air of pleasantry. "Come to learn more from me, my student?"

"Okay, first of all, I'm not your student," stated the juvenile super heroine. "Second, the only thing you taught me how to do was bully. And I shouldn't bully anyone, not even mean, nasty villains. No offense, guys!" she called to the villains. Was she for real? What kind of hero _apologized _to the criminals?

"None taken!" chorused the villains happily in reply. Sickening.

WordGirl turned to Miss Power, wearing an expression of pity, begging for this alien woman to see the light. Even though this girl knew nothing about her, Miss Power felt for a fleeting second that she was peering into the very depths of her soul. Those chocolate brown eyes held so much rapture and innocence, an innocence that had once been reflected in her own eyes before the spark sputtered and died. Cassandra was dead, but why did Miss Power feel that light reigniting? It couldn't. The day she drank that potion was the day she condemned herself to a life of no repentance. She was a soulless creature with no hope of redemption, something she could never forget. Forcing that moment of weakness behind her, Miss Power focused on the young girl standing defiantly before her.

"I wasn't born on this planet, but this is my home now. And if you think you can just come and take it over? Ha! You'll have to go through me!" The unwavering courage in her voice was inspiring, and yet it was useless. If only she could open this girl's eyes! If only she could make her understand all the cruelty and hate in the world! Anything good in this world was destined to be destroyed, for it was the nature of the universe. Why couldn't WordGirl understand that?

"You're too weak!" Miss Power declared, unable to think of a better taunt in the face of those child's eyes, pure and untainted with the sorrows of the world.

"I'll get stronger," WordGirl replied casually.

"You're too short!"

"I'll grow."

"You don't have the guts!"

"I'm here, aren't I?" she teased. "Here's the thing, Miss Power," she laughed, flashing a brilliant smile. "You don't have any power over me."

_Focus, Cassandra. Focus, _commanded that evil voice inside her head.

A dastardly grin lit up on Miss Power's face. "You look just like your birth parents."

WordGirl's smile faltered at the mention of her unknown, mysterious birth parents. "What?" she breathed, incredulous that Miss Power would know anything about her murky origins. Unwillingly, she wanted her to continue, to finally discover the truth, the real truth, not that lie Huggy had told her all those years. She knew that a civilization as advanced as Planet Lexicon would have been able to detect a small child sneaking aboard a government spaceship. She knew he had lied. Still, she allowed Huggy to think she believed the story, ready for the day when she would finally unearth the truth. It seemed today was the day.

"Sophus and Anastasia Theia," said the evil mastermind as if the identity of her birth parents was well-known. "You've got your father's face and your mother's hair and eyes."

"What do you know about them?" cried WordGirl, failing to prevent the definite ring of desperation from leaking into her voice. Huggy was squeaking animatedly in her ear, but she didn't listen. The only people that existed in her world were herself and Miss Power, the vital link to the past she had yearned to discover for ten years.

Miss Power sneered with the knowledge that she had ensnared the girl's undivided attention, had finally found a flaw beneath all that bravado and self-proclaimed goodness. "I know a great deal about them. Anastasia was the sister of Queen Islanzadi, ruler of your home planet, or should I say _our _home planet. Yes, that's correct," she added, pleased with WordGirl's floored expression. "I also originate from Planet Lexicon. I am Queen Islanzadi's daughter."

That last statement sent Becky's mind reeling. How could this soulless, despicable woman be her cousin? Huggy screeched that it was all a lie, but he knew it was futile. The ugly truth had finally made itself known in the worst possible way.

"It's been a long ten years, Cousin Alexandria."

Becky ignored the taunt, for she was filled to the brim with questions. "What happened to my parents? Why didn't they come find me on Earth?"

Miss Power wanted to laugh. It was just too perfect, seeing that pleading, desperate face which had been deprived of answers for so long. "You really want to know? I killed them," the murderer hissed with delight. "After that, I destroyed Planet Lexicon. Your home is dead."

Becky didn't believe her, or rather, she didn't want to believe her, but suddenly a vivid memory trapped inside her head for ten years rose from her unconscious to break the surface of her mind…

_Orange tongues of flames licked at the furniture, the walls, everything in sight. They mercilessly tore away at it all, a bitter reminder that nothing in this world could last, could shatter in an instant as Fate willed it. Lexonite sulfur filled the air, making it nearly impossible for Becky to breathe. The entire world seemed to be consumed with eternal fire, depriving her lungs of precious oxygen. Terrified screams bounced off the walls, closely followed by blood-curdling, tortured cries of agony as people were engulfed by the inferno._

_ "Alexandria, run!" choked a woman fighting for breath. Her mocha-colored hair tinged with the gleaming blood red of Lexonite sulfur and dazzling golden gown blended seamlessly with the fire as she cradled a docile toddler in her arms. The girl was wearing maroon overalls over a striped green shirt, with two adorable star pigtails. Fighting the toxic fumes, Anastasia – for Becky had no doubt this woman was her birth mother – shattered the glass window, sharp fragments falling onto the charred remains of Becky's father. Fire licking at her heels, Anastasia held the baby up to the fresh, cool wind, free from the Lexonite smoke. It was quite obvious what the mother desired from her only child._

_ With surprising glint of advanced intelligence in her eyes, the younger Becky clung determinedly to her mother in a refusal to leave her to the fire._

_ "Please, Alexandria, you have to go!" she screamed, panic being reflected into the identical chocolate-brown eyes of her daughter. "For your own safety, get off of Planet Lexicon! I'm sorry, but I can't protect you any longer. I love you, honey! Whatever the future holds for you, never forget that!"_

_ Eyes brimming with tears, the two-year-old nodded her consent, and with one last hug, took the sky, trying to block out the awful screams as the merciless flames of Cassandra's vengeance burned her mother alive._

* * *

_ "Captain Huggyface!" cried the toddler with uncanny articulation and no baby preliminaries. She had just touched down in the landing strip just outside the city of Vallisto, where elite spaceships of the Lexicon Air Force were taking off, the whirl of engines almost deafening to a human's fragile ears._

_ "Alexandria Theia!" replied the monkey pilot in a squeak of shock at seeing the queen's niece. "What are you doing here?"_

_ "There's a fire at the palace," said the younger Becky, her voice like the merry tinkling of jingle bells. "Mommy told me to leave Planet Lexicon; she said it wasn't safe for me to be here anymore."_

_ Regaining his composure, the monkey captain ordered a nearby official to alert the fire department of the deadly blaze consuming Lexicon's royalty. Turning back to the princess, he continued. "Did your mother have any particular destination in mind?"_

_ The toddler sadly shook her head, sobbing with the brutal loss of her parents._

_ "It's okay," Huggy murmured comfortingly, giving her a much-needed hug. Instantly, this innocent child had stolen his heart, just like every other adorable infant across the galaxy had the innate power to do. "I'll take you to Planet Solaria, okay? Just come with me." The monkey let Alexandria totter past him onto the spaceship, emblazoned with Lexicon's star and shield crest._

_ All during the ride through the galaxy, the two Lexiconians were silent. Finally, Becky spoke up, tears trickling from those innocent chocolate-brown eyes. "I'm a bad daughter," she stated sadly. It wasn't a question. "I left Mommy. Now Mommy's dead. I killed Mommy."_

_ "That's not true," Huggy said, not knowing what else to say, for he had no experience the matters of comforting others. He didn't have any children, and his wife… no, he couldn't even think of it. Sweet, beautiful Jasmine was killed in Lexicon's civil war sixteen years ago. Shot down from a laser in the sky, just mere inches from his side. Huggy had stood by while he watched his beloved pass away, believing that it was his fault, that he should have been able to save her. And now, seeing this poor orphan grieving the loss of her parents, he couldn't bear to see this innocent child's soul be ripped apart with the guilt and sorrow of her memories. There had to be some way to protect Alexandria from becoming like him, heart torn to shreds and haunted by death. But how could he erase her sadness?_

_ The answer was simple: make her forget._

_ Huggy possessed a rare necklace forged in the fires of Eshka Valley, an eternal, magical flame burning throughout all of history. The Eshka Flames, as they were called, had witnessed all of history and therefore could absorb and destroy it. Sadly, it only worked on humanoid Lexiconians like Alexandria, otherwise Huggy would have implemented its powers on himself. Contact for just a mere few minutes, and the first two years of Alexandria's life would vanish in her memory like wisps of fog, as if they'd never existed._

_ But was it moral, to erase all the memories of the people who had given her life? Now that her parents were dead, memories would be the only thing tying Alexandria to her past. But was the past something that should be held on to or something that should be brushed aside in order to create a brighter future?_

_ Putting the ship on autopilot, Huggy pulled out the necklace from one of the cockpit's numerous compartments. It was wrought from a million chains of gold with one immaculate diamond, glittering like a disco ball in the dim light and reflecting the deadly celestial flames it had been forged in. He let it dangle back and forth in some morbid form of hypnosis, in prefect rhythm to the beats of his heart. _

_ Huggy anxiously glanced at the now sleeping baby girl, tears streaming down her plump cheeks like waterfalls even in unconsciousness. Surely, that meant she was suffering more than she would let him see. Alexandria had truly loved her parents, and love should be something to revere and preserve, yet she couldn't miss what she couldn't remember. As long as the girl, or anyone else for that matter, never experienced love, then they couldn't truly yearn for it and therefore would never have to feel the soul-wrenching agony of having that blissful paradise torn away. _

_ Cautiously, so as not to wake her, the monkey tiptoed to her side. There was no time to contemplate this life-changing action. At the last second, he knew he would regret this for the rest of his life, but he was too late. Less than a millisecond after that thought was processed was the moment with the necklace made contact with Alexandria's neck. _

_ The necklace instantaneously imploded, the flames from within coiling up like a majestic beast to wrap itself around the baby girl. Huggy backed away in shock as the fire licked dangerously at her body, and yet nothing was charred, leaving Alexandria continuing sleeping peacefully. Finally, the fire, which was now glowing resplendently with her memories, repaired the shattered necklace and seamlessly melded into its crystalline depths. _

_ Oh no._

_ Just then, a series of flashing lights and beeping signals flared to life by the steering wheel, setting the pilot into a whirl of frenzied motion. Panicked, the monkey looked out the window, wondering what could have set off the alarms._

_ Oh great. This is why you never put a spaceship on autopilot._

_ A Lexonite asteroid was directly in the ship's path as it hurtled toward its doom at the speed of light, and there was nothing Huggy could do to forestall the inevitable collision course. The two objects clashed together with the force of a thousand nuclear missiles, sending the ship hurtling through the galaxy uncontrollably for light years of distance, with Alexandria bawling in absolute terror._

_ Finally, after ages of interminable fear of death, the spaceship was pulled into an unknown planet's gravitational force, causing the entire spacecraft to be violently dragged to the ground through the unrelenting atmosphere. Even though both passengers escaped the crash, Princess Alexandria Theia died that day, her erased identity already morphing into a new person: Becky Botsford._

* * *

"No," WordGirl breathed incredulously at the recollection of those forgotten memories, the memories revealing the terrible betrayal of the one person she trusted more than anyone. Bearing the expression of pure, unrelenting pain, Becky turned in desperation to her sidekick. "Why?" she choked out through her tears, feeling no need for elaboration.

Miss Power chuckled evilly. "Because he never cared for you, of course. It's a good thing he only held it to your neck for ten seconds, otherwise your memories would've been erased permanently."

"There was a fire," Becky recollected, scrambling to remember the already fading images. "My parents were burning…" She trailed off, the puzzle pieces of her life finally merging. "You killed them," she whispered in horror. "You killed them!" the superhero screamed with newfound rage boiling in her heart. Every muscle in her body trembled violently with raw hate, making her vision tinted with a deep crimson. Blood thundered in her ears as she raised her fist, not to maim, but to kill, to kill this sadistic, heartless being who had torn away her life, her parents. Her _real _parents.

"Go ahead, WordGirl," Miss Power taunted maliciously. "Let it out. Let out all that bitterness, that resentment for being stranded on a planet where you don't belong, the pain of being an outcast. Let hatred dominate you. Kill me right here, right now, in cold blood." At Becky's hesitation, a wicked smile twisted its way onto the antagonist's lips, so often stained with blood that the ghastly tinge could never be washed away. "I knew it. You can't do it. You know what I've done, what I'm capable of, and yet you can't bear to fail your self-righteous standards. You're terrified of what you'll lose, of the monster you'll become if go down that twisted path. You're too weak, Alexandria. Your parents would be ashamed."

Becky screeched shrilly, her super-sonic voice shattering all nearby windows. "I'll never let you hurt anyone ever again," she declared, with rage blotting out all reason. "There will be only one murder here tonight. Yours." Unleashing a tortured cry to the universe, Becky let her blinding hate guide her hands to Miss Power's throat, rage giving her newfound strength. As her fingers wrapped around their target, she didn't think about anything, not about the consequences or about preserving her moral values. Morality hadn't stopped her parents from being charred to ashes, leaving behind nothing but a little girl tortured with the burden of knowing she didn't belong. A part of Becky was screaming desperately to let go, but that side of her wasn't in control, bound by shackles of hate. As Becky squeezed tighter, she could see Miss Power's veins turning blue from lack of oxygen, the blood of a murderer, blood she shared, blood that would be destroyed. Miss Power didn't even try to resist, allowing the last wisps of her life to fade.

Just as she was about to depart forever from this existence, Miss Power inhaled her last breath and said, "Thank you, Alexandria, for you have given me the greatest gift of all. Freedom. Even though my heart still beats, I died 10 years ago, the day I lost everything. My life has become a living hell, and now I fall to meet another one. I may die today, but you haven't conquered me. My screams will echo maddeningly in your ears, my crimson blood will be branded into the back of your eyes, my death will haunt your every waking moment. You can kill me, but in the end, I'm the one who really wins."

Then Miss Power's neck burst open, drenching Becky's hands with blood and staining her soul.

* * *

**Well... that was violent, now wasn't it? So much for a gradual descent into eternal damnation. For those of you not attuned to my writing style, I am often violent and melodramatic in my stories, which are rated T for a reason. This may seem highly out of character for Becky – which it is – but as a writer, I desperately needed this murder to set the ball rolling. I'll try to make it seem more in character next chapter when she reflects on Miss Power's murder.**

**What do you think about Huggy taking away Becky's memories?**

**MissPowerPOW asked how long this story will be. Honestly, my plans for it are pretty vague, so I can't give you a specific amount of chapters. However, since I plan for this to be a _gradual_ fall from grace, I do know it will definitely exceed seven chapters. Chapter 3 will be posted on Monday!**

**Reviews are welcomed!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	3. Bitter Truth

**It's been a pretty hectic weekend, but now I'm back with a new chapter! Enjoy!**

**Random quote:  
WG: Let's go, Huggy. It looks like we're not wanted here anymore.  
Mayor: Oh, that's not true.  
WG: Really?  
Mayor: We still need you to give the key back. (Ha! Priceless!)  
– Crime in the Key of V**

* * *

The safest road to hell is the gradual one - the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.

C. S. Lewis

* * *

"No, no, NO!" cried Becky, furiously scribbling out the faces of the Botsfords in her scrapbook as she lay in the library of her Super Secret Spaceship Hideout, trying to erase the lies she had fell prey to for ten years. No matter how much she wanted otherwise, the Botsfords weren't her family. Whenever she had thought of her birth family, she had always felt a twinge of regret and resentment, for she believed they had abandoned her and hadn't bothered to search the galaxy and find her. She hadn't been good enough. They hadn't loved her, but the Botsfords did. Now, Becky realized just the opposite was true. Her birth parents had sacrificed everything for her, and yet Becky had somehow managed to replace them, to discard them, the ones who had given her life! In a way, she felt like she had betrayed them for loving someone else. She had abandoned them, and now there was no way to get them back. The younger Becky had been right. She had killed her parents, and now she killed Miss Power. Did that make everything right? No, and yet she still did it. Could her death bring her parents back? No, and yet she still violated all her moral standards for the sake of vengeance. Did being a villain justify her death? No, and yet she had still possessed the heartlessness to end Miss Power's life. So why had she done it?

It was because rage was the core of Lexiconian nature. Becky had been so angry, and that anger had pushed her over the edge, beyond the light of salvation. What kind of hero killed someone, even a villain, in cold blood? Becky looked down at her hands. Even though she had washed out the blood, she could still see it, the mark of murder tainting her very being. Before that day, she had been so careful with her emotions, so good; how could that all come tumbling down as if it were meaningless?

And still, Becky didn't regret killing Miss Power. She wanted to regret it, but she couldn't feel the right grief. Amazingly, she was so self-absorbed and so selfish that she was actually grieving for herself, for everything she realized she lost. She was sickened by her lack of remorse, but it was true. Miss Power was evil, had torn everything away from her. She had caused all Becky's hardships to be set in motion, and yet uprooting the cause didn't erase the effects. Becky was still trapped on Earth, forced to live a lie with the biggest liar of all.

How could Huggy do this to her? It was her life, and he had no right to take it away like that! Didn't he understand that memories were all that was left of her parents? Without them, what did she have left? People said you could never miss what you never had. They were idiots. Life was about experiencing everything, about rising from the pain of the past to a brighter future, knowing that you were better, stronger person because of it. She desperately wanted to know her parents, to know about herself and her origins, yet Huggy had torn that all away, not even asking for her consent, not even giving her a chance. Her parents were a part of her; to take them away would be like ripping off one of her arms or legs. She couldn't fully live without them. She was broken, utterly broken, betrayed by the one person she had trusted more than anyone.

Getting up, Becky super-speeded to the Crime Detector, where the spaceship's cockpit had once been. Getting down on her knees, she searched the floor, looking in vain for something that was unique yet worthless, powerful yet dangerous, with a treasure nonexistent yet a key to unlocking the life she brutally lost.

Finally, after a gruesome battle with vicious dust bunnies, she found it: an ethereal crystalline necklace, filled to the brim with liquid fire. Inside, a faint, bluish aura swirled lazily, half hidden behind the flames, ever morphing into the vague outlines of an object, a person, a place. Becky's memories were trapped in the very heart of that eternal inferno, hopelessly lost. She tried every means of prying it open, tearing at the unyielding crystal until her fingernails bled. Finally, she surrendered the unwinnable battle and reduced herself to staring endlessly at the aura's shifting shapes, trying to find some rhyme and reason to the pattern, trying to understand who she really was, not that lie she had been living for ten years. It was all a lie.

Then, all that longing turned to rage, once again tainting the world red. Slipping the pendant around her neck, Becky sped back to the library and started to viciously tear out the pages of the scrapbook, splitting apart those mocking, cheery smiles, wanting to erase the lies. This wasn't her family. She wasn't Becky Botsford. She was Alexandria Theia, a lost princess in a cruel, hostile world. She didn't belong here.

She started shredding the pages faster and faster, destroying the memories until she was left crying uncontrollably in a sea of paper confetti.

"Becky?" asked Bob timidly, peeking into the room, his fur matted with tears. "Can I come in?"

Becky nodded silently, too exhausted and upset to care. The monkey gingerly stepped inside. "Look, I know you're angry with me, and I'm sorry I took away your memories."

"No," she replied tonelessly, yet with a subtle bitterness. "You're not sorry. You don't regret what you did to me, so don't even say it. Don't you dare lie to me again."

"You're right," he said quietly, his head bowed in shame. "Even now, I still think it was for the best. You don't know what it feels like to live everyday of your life with regret, wishing you could turn back time and save everyone you loved. Memories torment you; mistakes blind you from truly seeing the sun. I didn't want you to carry that same burden."

"But that doesn't justify it. You had no right to destroy my past like that. My parents are a part of me, and no you've torn the only tie I've ever had with them! For ten years, I've lived my life with questions. Whenever I blow out the candles on my birthday cake, I wonder if they remember the day the brought me into the world and cast me away. I wonder if they know my favorite color is bright green, that I'm terrible at art, or that I like unicorns. I wonder if they care for me at all, if they're even alive, if they ever loved me. I wonder if they would be proud of the person I've become. All those answers are locked away inside my head, and because of you, I'll never know them."

"Oh, just stop it, Becky," demanded Huggy, losing all patience, his voice becoming cold and bitter. "You never knew Sophus and Anastasia Theia; they're strangers to you. Don't pretend to grieve them when you don't."

That was the last straw for Becky. "Okay, maybe that doesn't matter. What does matter is that after all the times I've trusted you, I've discovered it was all a lie! It doesn't matter that you were trying to protect me; you still lied. Even Miss Power, an evil alien dictator, told me the truth. How is that supposed to make me feel? I almost wish…" Becky trailed off, a rosy blush forming on her cheeks.

"What do you wish, Becky?" the monkey asked quietly, thinly disguising a layer of menace, dreading her words and yet already knowing the answer.

"I wish I had killed you instead," she said in shame.

A heavy silence draped itself over Becky, muffling her thoughts.

"Do you realize how much I've sacrificed for you?" demanded Bob angrily, tears of fury burning in his eyes. "During these past ten years, I could have walked away from you, left you clueless, abandoned, and knowing nothing about your true Lexiconian origins. I've known of your family's reputation, the spite and hatred that flows deep in your veins. Your parents lead the opposing side of Lexicon's civil war. Their warship killed the one person I've ever loved. Your family took away everything and everyone that's ever had a place in my heart. I owned no allegiance, no loyalty to you after your parents brutally tore apart my very being. Still, I stayed because I believed you were different, that you could rise from the ashes of your tainted ancestry and live up to the morals our planet values. I've given you my entire life. I trusted you, gave you my heart, and this is how you repay me. Maybe I'm not the only liar, Becky."

Tears glistened in Becky's eyes, framing the wisps of shadows swirling in those burgundy orbs, the prior, burning hate doused with a deluge of grief and shame. "I'm sorry," she gasped through her sobs, falling to her knees, a plea for forgiveness etched in her very soul. "I'm so lost and confused. I just discovered that I'm not the person I thought I was, that my entire life was a lie. I don't know who I am anymore. I know I don't deserve it, but I need you. I feel like I'm drowning in doubts and lies, and you're the only one who can save me from my guilt."

A flicker of pity flashed in those unforgiving eyes, like a dim light darting past a darkened window, only to be immersed with the utmost pain. "You murdered Miss Power, Becky! the monkey snapped. "How could you? Do you have any idea what you've done, not only to others but to yourself? You've become a monster, just like her. I can't even bear to look at you! I don't even know who you are anymore!"

Becky bowed her head in shame. "I understand how you can hate me; I hate myself even more than you do. You've been there for me a thousand times, so can't you be there for me now?"

"This time is different! You've taken away everything from me, so why should I show you any compassion, any help? And even if I wanted to, what do you what me to do, Becky? Turn back time and never give you that necklace? Forgive you for killing Miss Power? Even if I could, I wouldn't."

"I just want the truth."

"You want the truth?" Bob shouted. "The truth is you're a selfish, conceited little brat who never deserved the countless lives others have devoted to her. Your so-called heroic actions were so you could revel in vanity and mask the spite inside you. You're heartless and manipulative, taking away everything I have and giving nothing in return. I thought you could have been strong enough to overcome it, but today I was finally proved wrong. You're a murderer, Becky, a heartless murderer, and if you don't believe it, I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you regret killing Miss Power."

Becky stared straight into those coal black eyes, the once unbreakable bond they shared instantly shattered, leaving behind nothing but a mere memory of what once was. It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger, but then again, she didn't even recognize herself. She wanted with all her being to earn back the companion she'd lost, to erase the bitter truth that came to life, to be able to feel remorse for taking someone's life. It seemed everything in the world would reset if Becky could just regret killing Miss Power. _Just lie, _she pleaded with herself, wanting to erase it all, to go back to that life of blissful innocence that up until this morning had been hers. Still, she couldn't say it.

"Do you think I wanted to do it?" Becky cried. "Do you think I wanted to violate all my moral standards, everything I've ever stood for, to become a monster?"

"But you don't regret it," Bob lamented, realizing the battle was lost. The girl he had nurtured and protected for ten years was gone, replaced with a monster wearing her face.

"No, I don't regret it."

Bob knew she wouldn't. Averting his gaze, the monkey headed for the door. "Goodbye, Princess Alexandria Theia."

"That's not my name. My name is Becky."

"The Becky Botsford I knew is dead," Bob declared remorsefully before fading in Becky's life like a wilting rose, leaving behind nothing but bitterness and regret.

* * *

**Well, Bob just did a pretty harsh face heel turn on Becky. Then again, she did kill someone. What do you guys think? Do you think he made the right call? Next chapter will feature the Botsfords and will be posted on Wednesday.**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	4. Severed Ties

**Happy Hump Day! So in this chapter, it's like my version of The Homerun King. Well actually, it's what I wanted to say to TJ in that scene where he's just lying around, eating donuts, and waiting for the bat signal while Becky had to clean the garage.** **Enjoy!**

**Random quote:  
"Ha Ha! I love unicorns! That cloud looks like a porcupine! Did somebody order a pizza?"  
I did that for you, TLBB! Welcome to fanfiction!**

* * *

Becky lay on the library floor for hours on end, obscured in the endless little flecks of torn paper, settling on her skin like snowflakes. She looked breathtakingly lovely, as if she were Sleeping Beauty trapped in a dream, showing none of her inner turmoil. She was perfectly still, her luminous brown eyes peacefully closed, the gentle rise and fall of her chest the only sign of her vitality. Silent tears fell in perpetual synchronicity with her heartbeats, causing the scraps of paper to crinkle with the moisture as the Lexiconian contemplated her actions.

There was no doubt in her mind: it was utterly immoral to kill Miss Power. Despite her brutal cruelty, despite the fact she had torn away everything Becky ever had without remorse, there must have been a part of her that was humane, a hidden good to balance the evil. Becky had inadvertently destroyed something pure, good, and innocent. This was a sin that could never be forgiven. Even Bob, the one person who had always stood by her and supported her, even when she didn't deserve it, was repulsed enough to abandon her.

So why had she done it?

Maybe it was because she could see a portion of that evil reflected in herself. She couldn't accept the fact that no matter how hard she had fought to repress it, the darkness was truly hers, instead wanting to blame it on someone else when the guilt was hers, and hers alone. The truth was that Becky had taken a life in cold blood. How could she live with that? Could she live at all?

For ten years, she had been painfully blind to the demon residing in her very essence, yet now, everything was painted crystal clear with the bitter tears of the one she had hurt the most. Never before had Becky realized how much she had taken from Bob, from everyone she loved. She had mercilessly preyed upon the ones who had given her love, the greatest gift of all. She had taken everything: trust, admiration, even life itself, giving nothing in return except negligence and greed. Maybe it was her Lexiconian nature; she didn't know. It didn't matter the cause, only the sharp blade of guilt as the ones she loved abandoned her, just as she had abandoned them. Bob was only the first; surely, there would be others, chipping away at her soul until they fell into shattered fragments stained with Miss Power's blood, mere reminders of something beautiful.

It seemed that Bob's departure had finally opened Becky's eyes, only to realize it was too late to make amends. Things could never be repaired. There was no forgiveness, no redemption. The life she knew was shattered, and all Becky could do was pick up the pieces and move forward. It was all she could do.

As Becky sat up, she felt as if she had been turned to fragile, glass china doll, broken and poorly pieced together, struggling desperately to stay in tact. Tears burning as hot as the liquid flames inside her memory necklace, Becky left the spaceship, transformed into a suffering angel with bloodstained wings.

"Hi, Becky!" greeted Mrs. Botsford cheerfully as her daughter walked through the door. In a more concern tone, she added, "Do you mind if I talk to you?"

Becky skidded to a halt halfway to the living room. "Sure…" she said apprehensively, wondering what this was about. She pulled up a chair at the kitchen table next to her mother, waiting for her to speak.

"Look, honey, I'm sorry if I was harsh to you about Miss Power; I didn't want to believe she was a villain. The only reason I punished you was because I want to teach you to be better than that, to rise above others with morality instead of stooping to their level."

_It's a little late for that, _Becky thought bitterly.

"I know, and I'm sorry for everything I said to you and Dad."

"I understand, sweetheart. Everyone has to let some anger out somehow."

_Like snapping someone's neck, _Becky thought, repressing tears. _That would definitely let off some steam._

Snapping out of her reviere, Becky hugged her mother, stiff and emotionless, heavily weighed down with guilt. As she went to the living room, she asked, "Where's TJ?"

"He's at baseball practice with Dad; he'll be back around four." Normally, Becky would have been thrilled to hear this because she wouldn't have to fight over the remote to watch Pretty Princess and Magic Pony Power Hour. Today, however, trivial things like that were meaningless in the glaring sin she had committed. Averting her eyes from the blood on her hands that only she could see, she turned on the television to the cheery theme song. Just as they were about to show Becky's favorite episode, a breaking news report came flashing on the screen.

"Seriously?" yelled Becky. "Why can I never finish a single…" She trailed off as she focused on what the derisible reporters were discussing: her.

"You heard that right, folks," said the attractive blonde lady, putting on her best fake smile for the cameras. "Our beloved super heroine, WordGirl, previously known for her compassionate nature and firm belief in morality, shattered the aspirations and high expectations of Fair City. During a battle with the evil, alien dictator, Miss Power, the plucky twelve year old killed her in cold blood. We will now show the ghastly scene of WordGirl's immoral atrocity. Parents, strongly advise that small children be taken out of the room."

Becky stood gaping in front of the television in silent horror as the final gory battle scene played out, unable to believe that was truly her. It was like looking at a stranger with her face. The maniacal expression, the tortured cry of untethered rage, the eyes filled with horrid bloodlust, that couldn't be her… could it?

Then, she saw something she hadn't remembered through the obscured layers of numb shock, for everything after Miss Power's murder was an unintelligible blur in her mind. Drenched in blood, tears streaked down her face, sobbing uncontrollably, WordGirl laughed, crazed with the absolute pain of murder. Collapsing to the ground with Miss Power's corpse, she sobbed bitterly, filled with sadness, despair, but not regret. She had gotten what she deserved. She continued to laugh and cry with insanity until the petrified villains finally mustered up the courage to tie her down and knock her out. She could just barely decipher her last words before she surrendered to unconsciousness: "Mommy, I'm sorry."

"And there you have it, everyone," resumed the reporter. "You have just witnessed the first murder ever to take place in Fair City, a terrible stain on this town's peaceful history. This ghastly offense has thrown the entire city into a state of turmoil. The mayor has released an official statement warning the citizens that WordGirl is violate, dangerous, and should on no accounts be approached. All sightings of WordGirl should be reported to the county police immediately. Families with small children should stay indoors at all times. Public schools across the district have been closed, with private institutions being encouraged to do the same. A citywide curfew of nine o'clock will initiate tonight. The President will be flying in later today in a missile-proof aircraft to converse with the mayor, possibly signing a bill permitting the use of military force against WordGirl. More updates will be released periodically throughout the day as more information is discovered."

Becky switched off the television, unable to stand seeing it anymore, disjointed phrases from the newscast echoing menacingly in her head. Eyes brimming with tears, she turned to her mother, who had been watching with the same horrified disbelief.

"Oh dear, I was afraid you'd see this."

"Mom?" said Becky, trying to unglue her throat. "What do you think about all of this?"

"It think it's shameful," replied Mrs. Botsford, adopting her courtroom tone. "After all the trust this city has placed in her, she finally betrays us all. She was supposed to be a shining example for the children; now what am I supposed to do? How am I going to explain to TJ that the heroine he idolizes is a ruthless, cold-blooded killer? Gah! We were all fools to trust her. She's an alien. Deep down, she has no humanity. She's not one of us, no matter how much she tries."

"She's not a villain!" cried Becky. "She's an honest to God hero! A hero puts her life on the line everyday to protect those in need. She sacrifices everything, _everything, _to do the right thing. WordGirl always put Fair City before herself. She saved people's lives, even yours, and now, how is she rewarded? She's being hunted down like a criminal when it wasn't even her fault! Miss Power killed her parents and destroyed her home planet! She never wanted to become a murderer!"

"Remorse can't bring someone back from the dead, Becky. It doesn't matter how WordGirl felt, only the end result. She failed everyone and everything she's ever stood for."

"But Miss Power killed off an entire planet, maybe more! She was cruel, vindictive–"

"And now, WordGirl's no better than the person she killed."

"You're wrong!" screamed Becky, not wanting to hear the awful truth anymore.

"Becky, I understand you're upset, but I won't tolerate that tone from you, especially not in the light of your recent behavior. You still haven't finished your punishment chores–"

Just then, the heated argument was interrupted by Mr. Botsford and TJ, both wearing expressions of tremendous satisfaction. Running excitedly up to his mother, TJ held up an old, battered baseball as if it were a priceless, glistening trophy.

"Mom, you'll never guess what happened today!" exclaimed TJ.

Mrs. Botsford gave her daughter the ultimate I'll-kill-you-later glare before turning to her son, a fake look of excited curiosity plastered on her face.

"With this baseball, I defeated the Amazing Rope Guy! Everyone's calling me a hero, The Homerun King!"

"TJ, this is wonderful news!" said Mrs. Botsford, beaming with pride, wiping tears of joy from her eyes. "Especially now, when WordGirl's turned against us, we need a hero, a beacon of hope, and I can't think of anyone better suited for the job than TJ."

"Our son is a superhero," Mr. Botsford declared proudly.

Becky had been through so much pain and emotional turmoil; she couldn't take it anymore. "Anyone can defeat the Amazing Rope Guy!" she declared, annoyed. Her parents turned to stare as if she were some repulsive, intruding bug. "You didn't do anything!"

"Becky!" The parents exclaimed in unison, immediately taking up the defensive for their only son. "Apologize right now!"

"WordGirl could take him down in a matter of seconds!" she continued. "It wasn't that special that TJ could do it, too. He's not a real hero."

At Becky's outburst, TJ began to cry, trembling with heaving sobs.

Becky's anger softened at the sight of his tears, "TJ," she began gently. "I'm–"

"You're always so perfect, Becky! Perfect grades, trophies, you can do anything. Do you realize how much it hurts to always be stuck in your shadow? Everyone expects so much from me, just because you're my sister. I'm never TJ Botsford; I'm always Becky Botsford's brother! Up until today, I could never do anything special. Just when I find something I can do that you can't, you take it away from me!" cried TJ angrily. "Why do you always have to be so selfish?"

"You didn't even do anything!" Becky cried, the truth ringing horribly in her ears as she feebly tried to deny it. "It's no wonder WordGirl doesn't notice you. You can't do anything right; you admitted it yourself!" she shouted, harshly injecting her words with malice. "You're not a real hero like WordGirl!"

"WordGirl killed Miss Power!" yelled Mrs. Botsford, much to the shell-shocked astonishment of TJ.

"Oh yeah, _Mother_?" said Becky, rounding on her, a vicious emphasis on the endearment. "So you despise her then? After everything she's done for this city, you believe she's repulsive and evil? You don't love her?"

"Yes, I hate her!"

"Well that's good to know!"

"Why!?"

Becky took a deep breath, her eyes turning a bloody crimson.

"Because I'm WordGirl."

* * *

**She just spilled the beans! *laughs gleefully* See what happens next in Chapter 5 of Fall from Grace, coming Friday!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	5. The Bond of Blood

**Today starts my 4-day weekend! There's some overwhelming satisfaction about knowing you're having fun while your teachers are stuck at boring conventions. :)**

**Because of my ridiculously free time, I finally got around to opening up a new YouTube account, WinxFloraHarmonix, a sub diversion off my main account, WinxFloraFaerie. The new account will be entirely devoted to WG videos and episodes, which will be uploaded over the course of the next few days. It will also serve as a backup channel in the likely probability that WinxFloraFaerie shuts down. So to start off, I made a short little music video about WG and Tobey, to the song of Call Me Maybe. Here's the link if you're interested: watch?v=DRXUNNamQYE&feature=g-all-u**

**Okay, enough promoting my accounts! Let's get on with the story!**

* * *

Mrs. Botsford gasped, eyes sparkling with tears, reflecting microscopic rainbows only Becky could see. "Oh, Becky, I'm–"

"If you want to keep your head on your neck, you sure as hell better not apologize," Becky threatened, trembling with fury, her eyes turning an even deeper crimson. Mrs. Botsford retracted her hand from Becky's shoulder, cowering in fear. "You and I both know perfectly well you don't regret anything you said about me. After ten years of deluding myself, I've finally realized what's been staring me in the face ever since you first found me in that forest: you never loved me. You were never my real parents, no matter how much I tried to fit into a family where I don't belong. My real parents sacrificed their lives to protect me, and you can't even try to sympathize with me."

"Becky, you know that's not true," said Mr. Botsford, scared to approach her. But Becky wasn't listening, his comforting words distorted through a haze of doubt and guilt.

"Don't you understand?" she screamed, tears of pain welling in her blood red eyes. "My real parents are dead, _dead _because of me. Huggy hates me so much that he left. I killed Miss Power. I destroy everything I touch. You can't love me. You don't; you never did, and you never will."

"Becky, do you have any idea how stupid you sound?" remarked TJ smarmily. "Even when you annoy me, we still love you. The only reason you're denying it is because it hurts and you're afraid we'll leave you, just like your birth parents. You can't stand the thought of losing the people you've always loved by discovering it was all a lie. I don't know what's going on at your Lexiconian end, but to me, I still love you, Sis."

"No, I'm denying it because I don't have the ability to love, plain and simple. For ten years, I've tried to be something I'm not. I'm not human. I'm an alien, with no human emotions, only pale imitations. It's not in my nature to love, and today finally proved that. I'm the princess of Planet Lexicon, Princess Alexandria Theia. I don't belong here."

"Becky," began Mrs. Botsford. "Ever since your father and I found you in those woods ten years ago, you were the daughter we never had. We've watched you grow up into the wonderful young woman who fights for truth and justice that stands before us today. I know you lost your way, but we can help you, can be a shining example for you just like you were to us. Come on, Becky; you're better than this. No matter where you come from, you'll always be a Botsford."

Becky picked up a framed photograph of her family from last year's vacation to the water park, tracing the blissful, smiling faces through a haze of tears. To an outsider, there was nothing wrong or unnatural in the scene. They couldn't see the horrid abomination hidden behind a carefree laugh and a human face. Becky was like a cuckoo, a breed of birds, which place their eggs in the nests of other birds. No matter how much the cuckoo tried to act like its family, it didn't belong, like a misplaced puzzle piece. The more it stayed, the more it destroyed the nest and itself with denial and lies. Her tears dripped steadily on the photo, blotting out the smiles to reveal the truth. For ten years, she had been a Botsford, unable to open her eyes to her true Lexiconian heritage, forced to live a lie. Today was the day the lie shattered.

Permanently obliterating the tie between herself and the life she never had, Becky smashed the picture. While the glass didn't penetrate her skin, she could still see the glaring blood of Miss Power, destroying any love. Finally, it opened her eyes. She loved her adopted family just as they loved her, but that didn't matter. It would never be enough. In the end, the bond of blood would always be stronger.

She clutched the memory necklace, the tie to her past and her destiny, close to her thrumming heart, remembering that the blood which flowed in her veins was Lexiconian, not human. Nothing could change that.

"I'm done hiding who I really am," declared Becky fiercely before leaving the Botsfords with but a mere shattered photograph, a distant memory of a broken girl with broken dreams.

* * *

In all her life, Becky had never been more grateful for ice cream, the ruler of all comfort foods. Still, after four Pretty Princess marathons, reading 53 Webster dictionary editions straight through, and 27 scoops of chocolate chip ice cream, it barely made a dent in her overwhelming grief. Becky flew up to the window of her Super Secret Spaceship Hideout to catch a glimpse of the Fair City skyline set ablaze with the fiery passion of the setting sun. Amongst those buildings, there roamed thousands of police and government SWAT teams, all intent on finding and capturing her. There were hundreds of families, now hiding in fear of a girl they had once adored. And among those nameless, faceless families, there was one, which up until today had meant everything to her. Becky still wanted them to matter, but she couldn't let them get to her. No matter what she felt, it was all a lie.

It was amazing how much had changed today. In less than 24 hours, she had committed murder, turned an entire city against her, and lost all the people she ever loved. Was it possible for the world to turn upside down so quickly? Maybe she should've seen it coming. Maybe she shouldn't have taken it all for granted. Maybe she deserved it. For ten years, she had taken everything from those who had loved her most, giving nothing meaningful in return. Maybe killing Miss Power wasn't something that had come out of the blue. She had tried to deny it for so many years, but now everything was painfully crystal clear, rays of truth penetrating the protective shadow of lies and denial, piercing blindingly at her eyes. She was a monster, unlovable, evil in every form. Becky was eternally damned.

But if she was already destined for Hell, what could one more sin hurt? She wanted to see her family–, no, the Botsfords, to apologize, to explain why she had to leave, why she couldn't love them. After everything they had done for her, they deserved that. They deserved the truth from the girl who had lied to them everyday of her life.

It was far too dangerous to reveal herself as WordGirl and fly to the Botsfords; tonight, a golden beam of light in the sky would be a threat, not protection. And so, Becky took the human way and walked, the crisp fall air biting at her cheeks. The lights winked back and forth menacingly, a warning from entry. They seemed to scream she didn't belong here. But if Planet Lexicon had been razed by Miss Power, and Fair City rejected her, then where did she belong? Her two conflicting identities had turned to dust, two lies destroyed in the blinding light of truth. If both WordGirl and Becky had been lies, then who was she?

A soothing blanket of night settled on the city, peaceful in its simplicity. Becky had never before appreciated the night, filled to the brim with an ethereal, sublime beauty. This was the time when the painful reality of the day faded away and the dreams of a child sprang to life. Here, the rustling of leaves was a faerie's laugh of mirth, the rays of the fading sun formed a burning bright unicorn, and demons and angels danced in the shadows. Twilight was a mystical place, where the true essence of the world was revealed in the twinkling pinpricks of stars where fate was woven and destiny was written, waiting patiently for someone to take the time to read it. Becky remembered trying to touch the stars, to be like an angel, only to fall to the earth with shattered wings and broken dreams. And now, surrounded by this magic and beauty, she realized the night was truly a part of her, more radiant than the stars she fell from. It wasn't the same as darkness; the two were as different as fire and water. Dreams could abound at night, and magic could flare to life, and yet it could only seen by the silver of childlike innocence and awe dwelling in the depths of the heart, hopelessly lost in the light of reality. This was where the true essence of humanity could flourish, unbound by the shackles of doubt and reason. It was an imperfect place, and yet all the more beautiful because of it.

Finally, Becky reached the Botsfords' house. Deciding she could risk using some of her powers, she snuck around to the secluded backyard and gracefully leaped onto the shingled roof so she could hear the heated conversation originating from the living room.

"TJ, what are you doing?" demanded Mrs. Botsford as she watched in horror as her son meticulously decimated every picture of Becky in the house, with no trace of anger whatsoever.

"Moving on," replied the nine-year-old coldly. "Although why you would care is beyond me, you heartless b–"

"Timothy Jonathon Botsford, that's no way to talk to your mother!" reprimanded Mr. Botsford. "Becky's already left; we can have you leaving soon. Now, just calm down and wait for her to come back."

"You don't understand!" he screamed, smashing the photo of Becky on her first day of kindergarten with a particular vehemence. "She's not coming back! You heard what she said! 'I'm done hiding who I really am.' She left us; she doesn't care about us, and she never did. We were nothing more than fools for her to prey upon until she tore out our hearts."

"Don't talk about your sister like that!" cried Mrs. Botsford, trying to suppress tears.

"To be fair, you were the one who started this entire mess, Sally," reasoned Mr. Botsford gently.

"Don't you think I already regret everything I said?" cried Mrs. Botsford desperately. "I didn't know it was her! I was upset, angry–"

"She was always better than me," TJ continued, ranting feverishly, not paying attention to either of his parents. "Deep in my heart, I always knew she was meant for a greater destiny. If she really is this princess, then it was only a matter of time before she left her humanity behind and embraced her Lexiconian nature. I knew she would leave us behind in the end. I'm just sad to see that day has finally arrived."

Mrs. Botsford opened her mouth in a retort, but her husband gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe TJ's right. I mean, Becky's not anything like us, she wasn't meant to live on Earth like us. Maybe being a part of our family isn't what's best for her. If we truly love her, we have to learn to let her go."

"You're missing the point, Tim! Our family isn't something you can just opt out of anything you want! From the moment we found Becky in those woods, she became a part of us, a part of our hearts. It doesn't matter where she came from or what she was meant to do. What matters are the experiences she's shared with us that made us a family. We can't just cast her away at the one moment she needs us most. She's given up her life to keep this city safe, even when she had to put us on hold in the process. She only did it because she loved us so much that she wanted to spread that love to others. Now, it's our turn to show that love to her before we lose her forever. It's up to us to show her that even when she goes down the wrong path that she'll always be a Botsford, a daughter, and a sister."

"She's an _alien_!" cried TJ. "She's not my sister. She's not part of our family, and your whole motherly affection can't change that. Family trusts each other; they don't hide a secret life and lie to your face every day of your life. Family doesn't turn their back on each other. They. Never. Leave!"

"But she has to come back," Mr. Botsford reasoned. "She's not safe out there anymore. There's an entire manhunt for her. Even with her superpowers, they could hurt her."

"Good! She needs that, a good slap in the face. She needs to open her eyes to the fact that she's not invincible. She may fly, but she's not an angel."

"You're right; she's not, but as her family, it's up to us to help her," said Mrs. Botsford. "Can't you imagine how she's feeling? She's been through so much emotional pain, and now more than ever, she needs people who love and support her."

"Well you can take me off that list, because I don't care about her anymore. She's not bound by blood like we are, that's why she could rip apart our hearts and walk away. I trusted her, and now I've learned it's all a lie! She can't control us with her deception anymore. I'm done with her. Becky is dead to me, and I hope she rots in hell."

"TJ, listen–"

"No, you listen! The Becky we knew is gone; we can never trust her again. Do you honestly think she loved us?"

"She might not have loved us, but we still love her."

"You can't love someone without a heart."

Becky couldn't stand to listen anymore. Turning away from the window, she buried her head in her arms and began a much overdue bout of crying. TJ was right, had seen what she had been blind to for ten years. She didn't belong in the family, and staying would be unhealthy for both of them. It was time for her to start a new life, to protect them one last time from the greatest danger of all: herself. Now that everyone she loved was gone, all that remained was her own life, a life that couldn't be preserved in Fair City anymore. As Becky saw the flashing police headlines darting in the night through a mist of tears, she took small comfort in the fact that even if she was found, they wouldn't be able to hurt her. Huggy was the only one who could tell them, and he was gone. No one knew how to kill her. Except…

Becky nearly fell off the roof as she remembered with a sudden jolt one of her most traumatizing secrets, a secret that had rained down from the sky two years ago and fallen into the hands of evil. Ever since she had discovered its existence, she had lived in fear that someone would discover it and use it as the ultimate weapon. This secret could effortlessly bring her to her knees and end her life like a snuffed out candle, known only to herself and the one person she hated most. He hadn't revealed it in two years since its discovery simply because he had no motive, but now, with the entire city against her, it was the perfect time to clear his name and destroy his greatest adversary with one blow. He wouldn't be foolish enough to use a Lock-u-tron 3000, not this time. If she went in, she would never come out alive.

Mr. Big still had the cage.

* * *

**You all know what I'm hinting at here! I have to really stop abusing that plot point so much in my stories, but I just can't help it! Next chapter comes the villains! Stay tuned for when I answer the question we all asked at the end of the episode: What happened to the cage?! Also, it will feature the use of a gun, so be warned. **

**I plan on posting the chapter on Monday, but it could come earlier.**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	6. Descent into Hell

**Ah, Columbus Day, where we celebrate a man who decimated an entire Native American civilization. Check your history books, it's true.**

**As I mentioned last chapter, this will involve the use of a gun – two, actually. You have been warned.**

* * *

In light of Miss Power's murder and the citywide search for Fair City's ex-superhero, of course the villains would be having a convention. But honestly, they did not do so well hiding it. There was a freaking neon sign for goodness sake! And yet, for some obscure insanity in the script, she had to fly right by it in every episode, acting like a complete dolt and not knowing it ever existed. And now, finally, she could actually display some common sense and observance, landing effortlessly on the asphalt. After all, this wasn't a TV show, and yet all the more painful because of it. In real life, there was no clever plot device to redeem herself, no comfort in knowing her suffering would end after eleven minutes, and no guarantee that she would make it out with all her innocent purity and morality unscathed. Here, she wasn't an angel. She was human in nature, with human flaws and imperfections, forced to achieve an unattainable divinity. She would wake up every day knowing she was destined to fail in the eyes of everyone she loved.

Of course it just wouldn't be cool to just stroll in effortlessly, so Becky, now in her WordGirl costume, kicked down the graffiti-covered steel doors with unnecessary force. This caused the titanium to implode into tiny pieces, leaving her standing triumphantly in the entrance, set perfectly against the rising sun.

Becky crept through the dingy halls of the motel like a fearsome predator, careful not to make the slightest sound as she drifted as a ghost, haunted by what she would have to do. If she valued her life, she couldn't let Mr. Big live. She knew he would not hesitate to kill her, and neither would she. Now that she had lost everything that mattered, there was nothing holding her back; she was unbound by her withered conscience to beat him to it. There was nothing she could possibly do to sever the ties with the Botsfords even more, to make her hate herself anymore, so she knew killing him wouldn't be a problem. She was a fallen angel who had no need or desire to uphold any moral standards. This time, there would be no hesitation, no sadness, and no regret. Reaching into the folds of her cape, she drew out a shiny silver gun, swiped from her archive of villains' weapons. Of course, she could easily kill him without it, but this method was much more theatrical, and since she was eternally damned, why couldn't she have some fun? The weapon fit easily in her hand, as if it had always been a part of her. As she slipped silently into the conference room, it was time for her become the person she was destined to be. It was time to embrace her Lexiconian nature through the one action that had united her planet for centuries: murder.

Staying hidden in the shadows, Becky flickered open her luminously crimson eyes, listening attentively as she hid underneath the appetizers' table (food-themed villains did have their advantages) as Mr. Big answered one of Ms. Question's endless queries.

"Yes, I'm afraid it's our only option," the evil business tycoon declared remorsefully, addressing his fellow villains, now united by terror. "I think we can all attest to the fact that WordGirl crossed the line with Miss Power. We've never posed a serious threat to this city's safety, but now, the one girl who was supposed to keep us safe may soon destroy us all. We have no choice. We have to kill her."

"But is it just to stoop to her level?" challenged Dr. Two-Brains. "We all know WordGirl. She's a good person with a kind heart; she just can't see that now. We need to help save her from herself, just like she's done for each one of us. Deep down, I know there's still a fragment of that kind-hearted hero, and if we destroy that, we'll be destroying something pure and innocent, something that can never be forgiven."

"With all due respect, we can't afford to be sentimental, not in light of our current predicament," replied Granny May. "Despite what she's done in the past, she's dangerous. She could easily come after us, and then, who knows what she would do. There may be some good inside her, but it doesn't outweigh the evil. You all saw what I saw yesterday. WordGirl killed someone in cold blood, violating everything she's ever stood for. Whatever Miss Power was ranting about with her past really unhinged her. She's not only a threat to others but to herself."

"I assure, the Lexonite will work," insisted Mr. Big. "If we can just get her here, we can kill her."

"Or I can just save you the trouble and come here myself," WordGirl declared dramatically, stepping out of the shadows, to the petrified shock of the villains. Lady Redundant Woman shrieked and trembled in fear behind her copies. In perfect synchronicity, Mr. Big whipped out a gun crafted from Lexonite at the exact moment WordGirl raised hers, each positioned at each other's forehead. Fortunately, Becky had the prudence to stay out of range of the deadly mineral, so she was unaffected.

WordGirl raised her eyes approvingly, her lips curling. "I have to say, I'm impressed. I came here expecting a cage, but a gun? I suppose you truly do mean to kill me, even though I know you'll never fire it."

"And why is that?" demanded Mr. Big, with Leslie positioned protectively behind him. The other villains were cowering in fear in the corner in a protective shelter of meat, cheese, and yarn, which WordGirl could demolish easily, given the chance.

"Because I've heard it's a bit tricky to fire a gun when there's already a bullet in your chest," she mocked, none of the childlike innocence in her voice, her red eyes pulsating with bloodlust. It was like another, murderous being had taken up residence in her body, a violently thrumming heartbeat in stark contrast to her own, completely different and yet the bane of her existence, the very core of her being.

"WordGirl, what happened to you?" lamented Dr. Two Brains, stepping away from the villains and planting himself directly between WordGirl and Mr. Big. "You're not a murderer."

"You're wrong. I am. My entire planet is. It's what I was born to do."

"But you can still change that!" cried the evil scientist desperately. "You still grew up on Earth, raised to love others. Please, don't do something you'll regret for the rest of your life."

"If I don't shoot him, I won't have very much time to live, now will I?" reasoned WordGirl, her eyes determined, her aim still steady, not taking their eyes off the Lexonite gun. "Let's all not forget that he also has a gun; he'll kill me with it. The murder I'm about to commit is purely one of self defense."

"Mr. Big, drop the gun," ordered Two-Brains fiercely. When he refused, he screamed, "Drop it! We need to make her see reason, which she can't do when you're about to shoot her. Please! We can't give up on her, not after all she's done to try to put us on the straight and narrow."

Finally surrendering, Mr. Big let the gun drop with a resounding clatter, shoving it to the far end of the room where it couldn't affect her.

"That doesn't fool me," Becky stated, her eyes narrowing into deadly slits as she analyzed the situation like a professional killer. "I know you have more. You trapped me in an entire cage constructed from it. If I hadn't been able to define that word, I would have died from it. Someone as cunning as yourself must have had the prudence to bring more, so where is it?" The final words came out as a poisonous hiss as Becky came closer and closer, the gun still aimed at his head. Mr. Big knew that it would be cowardly and futile to try and run, so dropping to his knees with tears of fear dripping from his eyes, he allowed the ex-superhero to come forward, violently pushing Two-Brains out of her way, until the cold metal was pressed directly to his temple.

"WordGirl, stop!" cried Tobey, running from the crowd to fall to his knees at the Lexiconian's feet. "You can't kill him! I know you, and this isn't who you are. You're better than this, and now's the time to prove it! You may have never loved me; I may not have lived up to your aspirations of justice, but if you pull that trigger, you would fail all of my expectations, and those of everyone you love!"

Becky's hand trembled at Tobey's words. She loved them, but they had rejected her. Wasn't love supposed to be a two-way street? After all they had done to her, why should she have to be a shining example when they had abandoned her? Still, deciding it was for the best, WordGirl took three steps away, her gun still steady in her hand; there was no doubt she would shoot if provoked.

"I'll let you live on one condition," Becky threatened. "You will amass all the Lexonite you used to build that cage two years ago, no more, no less, and then you will destroy it all."

"I can't," replied Mr. Big fiercely, refusing to be bossed around by a 12-year-old girl until she pressed the gun to his heart.

"Why not?" she hissed, her fury mounting exponentially, prevented from being fully unleashed like burning lava by the barriers of the little reason she still possessed. Becky had let herself slip into her most natural Lexiconian instincts of hate and murder, letting her humanity dissolve into the recesses of her mind, overshadowed by a tumult of rage.

"Because I don't have it anymore," he said testily, as if this should have been obvious. "You of all people should know that. Once I was safely up in my cell, your little aardvark friend slipped into my jail cell in the dead of night, bearing a letter addressed from you. The letter ordered that Leslie was to hire a team of workers to relocate the Lexonite cage to a secluded place in the woods. I agreed, only because the note threatened to extend my prison sentence. And so, with Leslie supervising them, a team transported it to wherever your monkey led them to. Then, Leslie reported that the monkey disappeared into the woods and returned with some sort of a melting laser, from which he cut the Lexonite into movable fragments. One by one, he carried the pieces away, refusing to let anyone follow. I swear, that's all I know."

Becky's entire mind was frozen as her brain analyzed Mr. Big's narrative, the pieces slowly falling into place, radiating a ghastly truth, eradicating everything she had ever thought she knew about her once friend and companion, the sole figure tying her to her true origins. _He was plotting to kill me, _Becky thought with a horrid realization. It had been staring her right in the face, and yet she had been too blind to see it. She was a fool. The signs should have been obvious, and yet she had pushed her doubts aside in favor of her greatest weakness: trust. Becky remembered the day, just a few weeks ago, when she had fallen prey to that selfsame flaw.

_"Bob, do you know where the popcorn is?" asked Becky, wanting to settle down to watch the upcoming episode of Pretty Princess. "I swear, this spaceship is a labyrinth! I mean, how many rooms does a Lexicon Air Force ship have to have?" Venturing into an unknown corridor, Becky placed her gloved hand on a door's handle. Instantly, a dark aura sprang up around the cracks, whispering long forgotten secrets in an ancient language, unknown even to Lexiconians. The voices hissed wickedly like a crackling fire, dark and sinister, engulfing Becky in an overwhelming cold. An overwhelming mantra chanted incessantly, rising to an ear-splitting crescendo: secrets, lies, betrayal, shadows lurking, secrets, lies… A Lexiconian rune burned white-hot on the door, scalding her hand._

_"Becky!" screeched Bob concernedly upon his arrival. "Step away from the door!"_

_Following his orders without hesitation, Becky super-speeded to Bob's side on the other end of the corridor. She looked down at her right hand, the Lexiconian rune for betrayal branded into her skin._

_"What. Is. In. That. Room?" Becky asked, punctuating each word, her voice becoming more high-pitched and agitated with every syllable. _

_"I… I can't tell you," Bob replied, abashed, turning a deep shade of crimson. "Believe me, it's perfectly harmless as long as you don't go in."_

_"No," said Becky fiercely. "Kittens are harmless. Rainbows are harmless. Cupcakes are harmless. That freaky voodoo-whatever doesn't seem harmless at all, so you'd better tell me what's in there." When her monkey companion remained silent, she continued. "It burned me, Huggy! Nothing is supposed to penetrate my skin. Nothing can hurt me except…" The superhero trailed off, remembering the day she had been exposed to her worst weakness, her greatest fear, Lexonite. She was always quite embarrassed by it, as if it where shameful to have a weakness, to not be the invincible hero she wanted to be. All other obstacles she had been able to conquer, but she couldn't eradicate a trait that flowed in her blood and the blood of her planet since the beginning of time._

_"Becky, do you trust me?" asked Bob gravely._

_The answer was effortless, requiring no thought as it sprung from her lips as if it was one of the principal laws of the universe. "Of course."_

_"Then please, trust me when I say that I'm hiding what's in that room for your protection." Bob plastered a painfully gaudy smile on his face, seemingly convincing. However, Becky knew that look anywhere. It was the expression he wore whenever he was lying. He had only used it once before, when Becky had first asked him about her origins. After all this time, she had played along with the lie, never calling him out on it. After all, he loved her right? If he was lying, there had to be a good reason behind it. Through all the battles they'd been through, the crime-fighting duo had formed an unstoppable bond of trust, one that couldn't be broken, not now, not ever._

_Knowing the battle was won, Becky conceded, taking one last glance at the ominous door before going to get some popcorn. She had blindly placed her trust in Bob, unknowing that fidelity would soon be shattered._

"That murderous, back-stabbing traitor!" Becky screamed, reverting to the present with a sickening jolt. "After all this time, after everything I've done for him, after all the trust I gave him, he threw it all away as if it were nothing!" She continued to shriek incoherently with rage as it boiled viciously beneath the surface of her skin, the pressure and hate mounting until she couldn't take it anymore. With a feral cry of loss, Becky fully surrendered herself to her Lexiconian nature, slamming the gun into Mr. Big's chest, ready to unleash the complete gloriousness of her fiery wrath. Her unfortunate victim, however, did not have his eyes trained on her, but rather an ambiguous terror behind her, eyes bulging with surprise. Becky was just about to turn her head when she felt scalding fire searing in her veins as she surrendered to the peace of unconsciousness.

* * *

**Okay, I'm going to make something absolutely clear. I am NOT the type of writer who has a load of cupcakes, rainbows, and happiness in my stories. That's not the life I live, so don't expect me to write about it. If you've got a perfectly peace-filled life of gumdrops and candy canes, then hooray for you. I don't. I understand that this chapter may have pushed your limits on the violence. If so, feel free to push that marvelous little back arrow in the top left hand corner of your screen and go read something else. I rated this story T for a reason, and if you can't handle that, then there's nothing to be ashamed of. To help you guys out, here's a rating of the violence planned in the upcoming chapters:**

**Chapter 7: Somewhat disturbing. Minor insanity involved. Blood is mentioned.  
Chapter 8: Nothing violence-wise, but this could change.  
Chapter 9: Violent, but not as bad as this. However, the method of violence and execution of such is somewhat disturbing.  
Chapter 10/Epilogue: Nothing besides my usual melodramatic angst.**

**See if you can handle that.**

**However, I do NOT want to read a bunch of reviews saying 'terrible story, too violent, made me scared' or something along those lines. This is because reviews like those do not provide any helpful advice for me on how to improve. That's the point of a review. Don't go wasting precious seconds of your life typing something I'll delete. If I receive something like this, "That was pretty violent; try to balance it out by doing x, y, and z," I'll accept that graciously. I am open to criticism, but that criticism has to have a little tag saying WHY. I have been known to criticize, but I always follow these guidelines. I feel I deserve the same respect.**

**Now, on a lighter tone...**

**I'm sure you all deduced what happened at the end, but can anyone guess the identity of that brave soul? Next chapter will feature two people many reviewers are surprisingly excited to hear from: Scoops and Violet. Since I feel like after this chapter, you'll all need a little enticement to read on, here's a scene from the flashback when Becky and Violet first met:**

_"Ooh, how pretty!" Violet exclaimed, eyes radiating with excitement at the avidly drawn illustration depicting Puck prancing through the forest, holding the magic flower. The drawing was an explosion of color, from the mundane moss green of the trees to the stunning vibrancy of the wildflowers' rich hues, ranging from daffodil gold to an earthy tulip pink. It was wonderfully detailed, almost like a mirror, and Becky could just imagine sticking her hand through the page to stroke Puck's gossamer, cellophane wings reflecting tiny rainbows in the light of the sun's spectacular radiance._

_"I know that flower," Violet continued, pointing to the magical flower in Puck's hand, which was actually modeled after a forget-me-not, quite common on the New York peninsula where Fair City was located. "My mom has it in her flower shop all the time. It's called a forget-me-not."_

_"That's nice," Becky said politely, not really interested in the flower's origin, already hearing the words calling her back to the page._

_"Have you ever seen one before?" asked Violet._

_"Yes… in books."_

_At that, Violet let out a sweet laugh, hysteria bubbling up in frequent giggles. "Oh, Becky Botsford, have you ever taken your nose out of a book for one second to appreciate all the beauty around you?"_

_Cautiously, she shook her head, wearing a face of mystified puzzlement, wondering what this strange girl was playing at. _

_With a genuine smile of amusement painted on her lips, Violet leapt to her feet, crutches in hand, brushing away the scattered russet orange leaves that had collected in her lap. "Come with me. It's time you saw the real world."_**  
**

**Did that win your hearts back? I hope it did!**

**See you on Wednesday!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	7. Promise of Forget-Me-Nots

**Hello everyone! Honestly, I was quite impressed by how everyone handled that last chapter. I was bracing myself for a full-out revolt, but instead, I was pleasantly surprised by your maturity, understanding, and good grace. So as an award, I made this chapter extra long for you guys. Enjoy! :D**

**BTW, I'd like to welcome back casrules401 and darkleixrose16. It's nice to hear from you again!**

**Also, I don't know where some people got the illusion that Mr. Big died. He lived, folks. Becky didn't have the time to shoot him because she was knocked unconscious by... someone. Believe me, I would have made it much more dramatic if he died.**

* * *

"Traitor, traitor, TRAITOR!" Becky bellowed vehemently, pacing back and forth worriedly in her prison cell, trying to block out the painful pounding in her head from the Lexonite bars, courtesy of that traitorous primate. It was terribly dark, for she was held prisoner in the most remote, ultimate jail cell in Fair City, with the only speck of light being the feeble, flickering flashlight in Bob's hand. Turning to Bob, who was safely on the other side of the bars, she continued to scream. "How could you? I thought you had left forever only for you to crawl back and betray me once again!"

"Believe me, I'm trying to protect you," the monkey chirped sagely.

"How? This doesn't look like you're protecting me. You're hurting me."

"If I had let you kill Mr. Big, the pain would not only have been physical but spiritual. It would have torn your very essence apart, and I care about you too much to let that happen."

"And this is how you show care for me? By lying? By keeping me in the dark only to torment me with a deluge of deceit? Maybe the Lexiconian customs are slightly altered compared to here, but this isn't caring."

"The only reason I kept the Lexonite was in the unfortunate yet plausible event that you could become a threat to this planet. I didn't intend to harm you, but that is now my only option. Believe me, I truly care for you, Becky; you're just too blind to see it."

"That's not my name anymore. Becky Botsford is dead; you said so yourself." She glared at her former friend challengingly, daring him to fire back a retort.

"I'm not going to apologize for what I said," he whispered, sorrow etched painstakingly clear in every syllable. "However, I should have made an attempt to understand, and for that, I am sorry. I was trying to deny what I was seeing, even though I know better than anyone that denial can't change the past. For ten years, I tried to force you to become a person you could never be."

"Finally, after all these years, you acknowledge it," Becky retorted bitterly. "You can finally see what's ben staring you in the face even since I first donned that cape two years ago. Every single morning, I had to wake up knowing that I would have to lie to everyone I've ever loved. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many villains I locked away, I knew it would never be enough. Those adoring fans meant nothing to me, for there was only one person from whom I wanted to hear praise. I pushed myself even harder, trying to be someone you could be proud of, but at the same time, I knew it was futile. I could never achieve your impossible self-righteous standards that not even you could fulfill. I wasn't living up to my full potential; I could see it in your eyes. In the end, I would always fail in the eyes of the only person who has ever truly mattered to me: you. Being a hero was never my destiny. You, and you alone, placed me on such a tall, unstable pedestal, knowing I would fall, and yet even now, you blame me for being the monster you created."

"Don't you understand, Becky?" cried Bob desperately. "All those times I felt disappointed were because _I _was the failure, not you. Because of my negligence, I lost the one person I ever loved. Every crime I helped you stop I offered up as an apology, even though I knew in my heart it could never bring sweet Jasmine back. And so, I tried my hardest to save you from your heritage, thus creating a meaningless copy of the girl I loved instead of allowing you to be yourself. The only person I truly failed was myself."

"So what do you expect from me now?" retorted Becky, refusing to reveal any morsel of sympathy. "Forgive you? Do you really think a simple apology can erase everything you've done to me?"

"It's all I can offer you, although I flat out refuse to take all the blame for your spiral into corruption. Regardless of everything I've done, a fair portion of blame belongs to you, Becky."

"That's not true," she said a little too quickly.

"Becky, look at me," demanded Bob. The Lexiconian girl looked straight into the eyes of the one who had always been by her side, a fugitive in a foreign world, and yet just as disconnected from her as the stars, so surrounded by a web of lies that she didn't know what was real anymore. Through the sparkling brown orbs glistening with concern and love, she could glimpse a faint reflection of her own bitterness and resentment, so profound was shocking.

"Do you see it now, Becky?" asked Bob quietly, as if he feared a lingering evil spirit overhearing their conversation. "You've tried so hard to pin the blame on everyone else so you don't have to see how far you've truly fallen. You think that you'll never find your way out. But trust me, you can, if you just open your eyes and see the light that everyone is trying to give you."

"But I can't see it!" cried Becky desperately, losing all patience. "Light doesn't radiate the same way as before. It creeps away, fears me, not allowing me to get close. It doesn't protect me anymore. The stars are no longer my guardians. All I can see is blood, tainting my vision. I can see it splattered on the walls, matted in your fur, drowning me in a sea of crimson. I can hear it whispering horrid things to me, night and day. I can't take it anymore. _YOU HAVE TO SAVE ME!_"

She screamed and screamed, panicked tears glazing her face, trapped in the hell that was her mind. Becky grabbed hold of the bars and rattled them violently, refusing to let go even when they burned her flesh. All she could do was scream with insanity until she slumped into a tightly curled ball on the floor, burying her face in her hands. "I don't want to see it anymore," she whimpered, lying helpless on the damp, grating concrete until she saw the flashlight moving farther and farther away.

"Wait, where are you going?" Becky asked, scared of being left alone here in the ominous, cruel, black prison, a perfect replica of her soul. "Please, don't leave me," she begged. "You promised you would help me."

"I'm sorry," Bob whispered, more to himself than to her. "You're trapped in a place where even I can't save you. I know a lost cause when I see one." And with one final look at the girl he protected for ten years, he departed to a brighter, livelier place, trying to block out Becky's terrified screams, knowing Jasmine would never forgive him for leaving her.

Becky didn't even have the energy for anger. All she could do was curl up on the dingy, worn-out cot in the corner of the cell, getting as far away as she could from the Lexonite bars trapping her. Tears slowly dripped from her crystalline crimson eyes like radiant stars turned to liquid, like that of a falling star, a falling angel cast out from the heavens, destined to wander the unforgiving earth alone. Gazing up at the moon through a small greasy window far above her head, she was able to watch the moon with breathtaking rapture. If only she could be free, she could fly to that moon and look down upon this insignificant planet with peace, knowing that nothing could hurt her. She would revel in her perpetual solitude until she forgot everything: Fair City, her family, the betrayal, and most of all, the guilt. Maybe time would truly be able to heal her wounds up to the point where she could go to sleep at night and not be plagued by Miss Power's dying screams, the blood on her hands finally washed away. Still, Becky knew it was impossible. There could be no forgiveness, no repentance for her unspeakable atrocity.

At the crack of dawn, a lone guard, trembling with fear, came to deliver breakfast. Wordlessly, he slipped a tray containing a cheese sandwich and water between the harshly glowing crimson bars, terrified to meet her eyes. As the guard rose to leave, she could see a glint of hurt betrayal and resentment in the depths of his eyes, directed to the core of her soul. Becky desperately wanted to cry out that she didn't belong here, that she was innocent, but she knew it would be a lie.

Becky was starving, but for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to eat. Tentatively, she lifted the piece of bread with crusts, contrary to the ever-popular Crustless Bread, made by Brent The-Handsome-Successful-Everyone-Loves-Him-Sandwich-Making-Guy. Amazingly, there was a brief message written in ketchup on top of the slice of cheese:

_Don't give up on yourself, because we're not. ~ D.T. and C.T.E.S.M.G._

A tiny smile lit up on Becky's face at the sweet gesture, only to be replaced with a pang of knowing even the villains were nicer than her. She devoured the sandwich in four bites, but she couldn't bear to drink the water swirling with blood only she could see.

As Becky lay cold and alone, waiting for her impending trial, with only the sallow moonlight for company, she wondered just how exactly she had fallen. Everything had been going so perfectly in her life, so how could she not notice what was happening to her? Even if she did notice, however, it wouldn't have made a difference. So when had this oblique downfall first started? When she killed Miss Power, or from the very moment her heart first began to beat with blood tainted from her ghastly ancestry? Even though she didn't want to believe it, the latter seemed more plausible. So if she had always been a monster, were all her experiences and 'emotions' lies?

Finally, the monotone of her agonizing wait was broken as the pale beam of another flashlight slashed through the darkness to reveal the stark faces of her two best friends.

"Violet! Scoops! I mean–" Becky cut off, remembering she was WordGirl and therefore shouldn't know them. Her brain scrambled for an excuse, but whether it was a result of Lexonite or her naturally poor lies, nothing would come to mind.

"Don't worry, Becky," said Violet soothingly, but with a thin layer of coldness and apprehension. "We know who you are."

Becky raised her eyes in surprise, but then again, it should've been obvious from the start. Rushing headlong into her confession, Becky said, "Since I'm probably going to die tomorrow, I want you to know something. Scoops, I'm going to tell you something I've been trying to tell you since the day we first met, but you've been too blind to see it." Then, the words began to rush from her mouth in an endless stream, holding nothing back, finally laying her entire heart in his hands. "Todd Scoops Ming, I love you. I always have, even when you pushed me away. Despite everything you've done to me, I'm yours, and yours alone. You don't have to love me back; I just thought it would be good for you to know before I die."

"Oh Becky," said Scoops fondly, brimming with new emotions he never thought he had. "I love you, too. I've denied it, hated myself because of it, but it's true. I always thought my feelings for you would be a detriment to my dreams, but today, I realized that you _are _my dream. It's like you've become my entire world, but now I have to let it all go and find a new one. I'm sorry, but if I can't let you go now, it'll be that much worse when you die. I'm sorry, but I can't love you anymore."

Becky nodded with sparkling tears as her impending death sentence loomed over her head. "There's still a trial, you know," she whispered. "They may not kill me."

"Becky, it's just a formality," lamented Scoops. "Everyone knows you're as guilty as hell; you even admitted it yourself."

"Why, Becky?" asked Violet forlornly, her voice never before expressing so much emotion, with no need for elaboration.

"I don't know," she whispered, shame-faced. "I failed you."

"Yes, you did, but not for the reason you're thinking of," replied Violet. "You failed us when you gave up on yourself."

"You're better than this, Becky," added Scoops.

"Stop it!" Becky cried, knowing she would be crying if there were any more liquid in her system. "I'd say I'm sorry, but that doesn't change anything. No one can save me, not even myself."

The friends remained silent, instead interlacing their hands with Becky's through the bars of her cage, the only sources of light being the flashlight and the bloodthirsty gleam in the Lexiconian's eyes. Becky peacefully closed her eyes, entertaining the illusion that there could possibly still be some people in this world who cared for her, that she wasn't alone.

Finally, Violet broke the suffocating curtain of repressing silence. "Becky, do you remember when we first met?"

"Of course," she whispered in reply, looking back on the day when she finally opened her eyes to the real world.

_7-year-old Becky was reclining under the shade of the grand oak tree planted off to the side of the playground. All her other classmates were running around, whooping with an inexplicable excitement, while Becky was curled up with her new favorite book, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ by William Shakespeare. She had never really seen the point of playing around at recess when a book could take you any place you wanted. For so long, she had believed that books were all she needed._

_Because of this, Becky never had any true friends except for Bob, who was not yet allowed into school, but that was okay with her. After all, why have real people as friends when you could have an assortment of sly pixies, friendly talking animals, valiant heroes, and everything in between?_

_And besides, Bob had specifically warned her about having friends when her powers were just beginning to develop. She wouldn't fully be in control of her strange abilities until about age ten. Until then, coming into close contact with others come be dangerous, for one of the first rules Bob had ever taught her was to never reveal her secret, no matter the situation. He strictly cautioned that if a human found out she was an alien from another galaxy, the government would haul her off to an experimentation laboratory, never to return._

_A particularly violent gust of wind swirled around her, flitting through the pages of the book, and Becky wrapped her light blue windbreaker around herself in an attempt to protect herself from the cold. Underneath, she had worn her faded mustard yellow T-shirt with a silver butterfly and a sequined snow-white skirt in a last-ditch effort to preserve the little wisps of summer remaining. Oh well, she supposed September had to come sooner or later._

_Just then, another classmate approached her, a girl with fair blonde hair in ponytails, delicately built, and wearing a frilly pink dress. Becky watched her from her peripheral vision, not taking her eyes off the book, as the girl advanced in tedious, jerky, unbalanced steps. At first, Becky wondered why she was moving so slowly until she glanced up from her novel to see she was also wearing a cast on her left ankle and a pair of crutches. _

_"Do you mind if I sit here?" asked the girl, her voice tinkling like the sweet melody of wind chimes. _

_"Sure," Becky replied shyly, for even though this girl was in her class, she had never once talked to her. All Becky knew about her was her name, Violet Heaslip. _

_Gratefully, Violet leaned the crutches against the sturdy oak tree and gingerly sat down on the grass, still damp with dew, careful not to move her maimed ankle or get her frivolous dress dirty._

_"I'm Violet," the girl introduced, smiling beamingly. _

_Not knowing what else to do, Becky held out her hand for Violet to shake. "My name's Becky." Glancing at the girl's cast, she continued. "What happened to you?"_

_Violet blushed, but she still answered. "It's pretty embarrassing, actually. I just got my first two-wheeler for my seventh birthday. When I went to try it out, a little runaway dog got into my way, and I had to swerve into a tree to avoid hitting it."_

_"Wow, you must be a hero," Becky stated in awe._

_This caused Violet to turn an even deeper shade of red. "It was just a puppy…" she mumbled._

_Becky realized how uncomfortable she was making Violet feel, so she decided to clam up and return to reading about the sprightly fairy, Puck, dropping the juice of the magical flower on Lysander's eyelids._

_Curiously, Violet leaned over Becky's shoulder, trying in vain to distinguish the vast, unintelligible words her first grade education had yet to teach. "How can you read that?" Violet asked in amazement._

_Becky's chest swelled with pride. "Because I'm from the Planet–" She covered her mouth in shock, looking absolutely comical with her eyes nearly jumping out of her head._

_"Because what?" Violet persisted._

_Not knowing what else to do and unable to come up with a lie, Becky kept her head buried in her book, pretending not to hear. As she turned the page, Violet let out a squeal of delight._

_"Ooh, how pretty!" she exclaimed, eyes radiating with excitement at the avidly drawn illustration depicting Puck prancing through the forest, holding the magic flower. The drawing was an explosion of color, from the mundane moss green of the trees to the stunning vibrancy of the wildflowers' rich hues, ranging from daffodil gold to an earthy tulip pink. It was wonderfully detailed, almost like a mirror, and Becky could just imagine sticking her hand through the page to stroke Puck's gossamer, cellophane wings reflecting tiny rainbows in the light of the sun's spectacular radiance._

_"I know that flower," Violet continued, pointing to the magical flower in Puck's hand, which was actually modeled after a forget-me-not, quite common on the New York peninsula where Fair City was located. "My mom has it in her flower shop all the time. It's called a forget-me-not."_

_"That's nice," Becky said politely, not really interested in the flower's origin, already hearing the words calling her back to the page._

_"Have you ever seen one before?" asked Violet._

_"Yes… in books."_

_At that, Violet let out a sweet laugh, hysteria bubbling up in frequent giggles. "Oh, Becky Botsford, have you ever taken your nose out of a book for one second to appreciate all the beauty around you?"_

_Cautiously, she shook her head, wearing a face of mystified puzzlement, wondering what this strange girl was playing at. _

_With a genuine smile of amusement painted on her lips, Violet leapt to her feet, crutches in hand, brushing away the scattered orange leaves that had collected in her lap. "Come with me. It's time you saw the real world."_

_Bursting with a sudden excitement, Becky sprang from the ground, far too fast for a human yet not at Lexiconian speeds. Violet narrowed her eyes in suspicion before shrugging it off as a mere trick of the light. _A Midsummer Night's Dream _tucked under her arm, Becky followed Violet, feeling as if she were embarking on a grand adventure despite the fact they weren't even leaving the school grounds. As she looked around, everything seemed so much more real, like someone had switched her brain onto high definition, like a grainy film formerly covering her eyes and mind had finally been dissolved, allowing Becky to experience the world in its full glory. Laughs, shrieks, and murmured conversations rang with an undefined harmony, blending together into an imperfect yet flawless symphony. The vibrant colors were tinted with a subtle beauty and magic, only seen by the innocence of children. Everything was assaulting Becky's perception, and yet she welcomed the rush of information and reality, finally feeling as if she finally belonged on Earth. She could see the world through Violet's eyes, and she was determined to never miss another second of this awe-inspiring beauty._

_Finally, Violet led Becky to a secluded place on the side of the school building for her to behold the most ordinary and yet ethereal sight imaginable. It was a cluster of forget-me-nots, but it was breathtakingly beautiful. The sunlight hit the brilliantly azure flowers perfectly, creating a contrast of lights and darks. The brilliantly blue petals were soft as silk, a delicate, fragile thing, and yet Becky was sure if a hurricane barreled through Fair City at this moment, these precious flowers would remain untouched. It seemed to glow with a subtle yet profound wonder, rising from the arid, unforgiving earth and tangles of weeds as a beacon of hope, a promise for a better future. A purple butterfly landed on the cluster, and the moment was so perfect, so right, she couldn't bear to look away, hopelessly captivated by its marvelous simplicity. She felt like a newborn baby first opening her eyes to the sun. Hidden in the depths of this seemingly ordinary phenomenon, Becky knew the most beautiful and magical secrets were awaiting her, buried in the heart of these flowers, and if they were obliterated, the universe would cease to exist. The forget-me-not's true essence could not be depicted, could never be fully described in such a mediocre, mundane object as a book. _

_Then, she realized that she had been trying so hard to create an entirely new world for herself with her books when there was a truly astounding world of wonder she could meld seamlessly with, if only she could take the time to open her eyes to it. It was at this moment that Becky truly saw the world she had been blind to for so long, saw the sparks of life and hope tucked away in the recesses alleyways of a harsh and unforgiving planet, unable to truly shine. These simple, ordinary things were the keepers of true beauty, more profound than all the gemstones of the earth and the stars in the sky._

_For the first time in her entire life, the Lexiconian was lost for words._

_Violet gently plucked one of the forget-me-nots and placed it in Becky's hair, just as the bell signaling the resume of classes began to ring. Wordlessly, Violet picked up her crutches and limped away with a faint smile of satisfaction. As she went inside, Becky could faintly hear her whisper, "Promise me you'll never forget what you saw, Becky."_

Now fully in the present, Violet pulled out a forget-me-not from her pocket, still as vibrant and beautiful as the day they first met. Still, it didn't shine for Becky the same way anymore, now that she had destroyed life, the most precious gift of all.

"You broke your promise, Becky," whispered Violet sadly yet boldly, not a single tear falling from her eyes. The words were like a spear of guilt and disappointment stabbing at Becky's heart.

Then, a heavy set of footsteps resounded in the silent prison cage, buried several feet under the city, as three skittish policemen ventured into the room. Each one of them was scared stiff at the sight of Becky, terrified to meet her blood red eyes. The apparent head chief gestured for Scoops and Violet to step aside. Then, with a worn silver key in one hand and a pair of Lexonite handcuffs in the other, he unlocked Becky's cell.

"Wait, what's happening?" cried Becky fearfully as her hands were forcibly thrust behind her back with the Lexonite restraints, beseeching Violet and Scoops.

"It's ten o'clock, Becky," replied Violet remorsefully, her face a picture of mourning, as if she were already picking out flowers Becky would like best on her gravestone. "It's time for your trial."

* * *

**Well.. what did you think? I tried to balance out the angst with that flashback with Becky and Violet. Personally, I thought that part was sweet, but I'll let you be the judge of that.**

**Today's chapter actually came with a message: appreciate the little things. There's so much beauty around us everyday, but people don't take the time to notice it. The scene with the forget-me-not was inspired by this rosebush in my backyard. Even though all the plants around it are withered and dead, there's still one red rose in full bloom. In my eyes, it's simply astounding. Today, I challenge each and every one of you to go out of your way and find a tiny spark of hidden beauty. I think you'll be surprised by what you find. Okay, I'll get off my soapbox now.**

**Now, let me address what I'm sure stunned all of you: Becky and Scoops love each other. Yes, you read that right. Not Tobey. Scoops. And yes, my mental sanity is the same as it's always been. No, I haven't been poisoned, and I'm definitely not high. I'm sure you're all thinking, "Isabella shipped Scecky... I think the universe is going to implode soon." Well, let's face it, at least one half of all fanfictions are devoted to Tobey and Becky; I have to throw the minority a bone now and then. Seriously, everyone, aren't you getting just a little tired of it? Don't you think it's time to give Scoops a break? The kid isn't the devil; he's just absurdly negligent. Please, note that Scoops said he couldn't love Becky anymore. That's my consonance to you all. It's not going to become all romance-central, so relax, folks. You'll survive.**

**Next chapter, coming Friday, is what should've happened in "The Wrong Side of the Law: Part 2"**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	8. Second Chances

**Happy Friday! So, here's Becky's trial... not much more to say.**

**I'd like to personally welcome my newest reviewer, PurpleLightning12. It's nice to meet you!**

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"There are no second chances in life, except to feel remorse."

― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

"[...] you're willing to look past things and to give people second chances. But the thing is, Rose, some people don't deserve them."

― Rebecca Serle

* * *

It was the height of humiliation for Becky, a princess from the Planet Lexicon, to be dragged into court completely at the mercy of humans, little more than a mere mortal. Escorted by no less than 15 elite SWAT members, she hung her head in shame, her hair creating an impenetrable barrier between her and the prying eyes of the crowd, thousands of once admirers now screaming for her death. Whether out of fear, curiosity, or hatred, all had amassed to witness firsthand the trial of their despised heroine. At least she was permitted to not reveal her secret identity and don her regular WordGirl attire rather than an unflattering orange prison suit. After all, she had to be recognizable to the millions of people watching the live broadcast across the nation. She refused to cry, but through the thin curtain of her hair, she could make out mumbled phrases. _Alien… murderer… deserves to die… monster…_

And the worst part about it all was that they were right. Becky was just praying that this trial would be over so she could just be executed, but of course, God apparently wasn't supposed to hear the prayers of the damned. Never before had she felt so lost, so alone, although the full enormity had yet to impact her. Even now, surrounded by the blinding glare of flashing cameras, she felt lost in the dark, with no one to help her out of the immense pit she had fallen into.

Fighting not to collapse from the Lexonite, Becky focused her very being on putting on foot in front of the other. Distantly, she felt the mush of a rotten tomato colliding with the side of her head, but she gave it no notice. Every jeer, every cry of mockery, every stab of pain from the poisonous Lexonite was what she deserved. It was like Jesus on the road to Calvary, only Becky wasn't consoled by her suffering being to save the world. This was her pain, and hers alone. There was no one to blame but herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mrs. McCalister, the prosecutor, and her mother, the defendant. Tobey was with his mother, face turned upon Becky with utmost pity as he tried to catch her eye. Finally, after what seemed like hours to Becky but was really only a few minutes, security released her and allowed her to sit by her mother, the SWAT team mere inches behind her, all with weapons at ready. Mrs. Botsford allowed herself a brief glance of sympathy for her daughter before regaining her composure for the cameras. Becky's face was as emotionless as stone, unwilling to surrender to the weakness of emotion.

"Order in the court!" cried the judge over the boos and screams of the court crowd, banging his mallet just like in a movie, everyone immediately silent as the grave. "Today, we are here, in the name of the United States of America, to give witness and prosecute the defendant, who on all accounts and purposes, will be addressed as WordGirl or as alien specimen A392810, as identified by the Department of Domestic Security. She has been brought before us today on charges of voluntary first-degree manslaughter and attempted second-degree murder. The defendant for the witness is District Attorney Sally Botsford. The state prosecutor is Claire McCallister. Mrs. McCallister, you may present your opening statement at this time."

The heavily built woman rose from her seat, fiery rage burning in her eyes. "Citizens of Fair City, I come before you today not as a Fair Citian, not as an American, but a human being, a resident of Planet Earth. I am here to give witness against this atrocity, this extraterritorial abomination we have harbored in our town for two years, two years too long. We have gone too long with letting this threat to our very planet fester in our own backyard. What kind of country welcomes foreign, deadly invaders from the galaxies above? Have we no love for the principals America is founded on: love, life, and justice? We have turned a blind eye to this intruder for two years. I say it ends today!"

The crowd roared and cheered at the end of Mrs. McCallister's valiant speech of patriotism. Once the plaudits were finished, the judge turned to Becky's mother.

"Mrs. Botsford, would you like to speak?"

"I would," she replied defiantly, a spark of love radiating in her very being, and Becky had no doubt that at that moment, she could conquer the world if she wanted.

"It is true that WordGirl is an alien. It is true that she has a higher calling, a greater destiny. It is true that she was never intended to be here. And yet, through a miraculous gift of grace, she is here on Earth, working to protect human life, sacrificing everything she is for the greater good. She asks of nothing in return, and still we turn our backs on her, just we she needs us the most. WordGirl has saved the lives of everyone you love, and still we scream for her death. Maybe we're not the only monsters here. If we decide to kill WordGirl, this planet's radiant symbol of hope, we will be destroying something pure and innocent, condemning our world to be corrupted by hate without the promise of a savior. WordGirl may have killed Miss Power, but now, it's up to each and every one of us to rise up and pull her out of the darkness, just like she's done for us all these years. WordGirl may not originate from this planet, but she's more human than all of you, for she understands the principals of compassion, justice, and love, the foundation of our very human nature. She demonstrates these virtues everyday, and now, I beseech you all to do the same by offering her your most heartfelt compassion. No matter what happens, WordGirl will always be our hero."

As Mrs. Botsford took her seat, the courtroom was in stunned speechlessness, astounded by the power of her words.

"Mom, that was great," Becky whispered gratefully. "Thank you. And… I'm sorry about what I said."

Mrs. Botsford flashed a split-second smile, filled with love and warmth. "It's alright sweetie. I'm sorry too. I didn't see the whole picture." Glancing down at Becky's wrists, she added concernedly, "Are you feeling alright?"

Becky shook her head, trying not to vomit. Just as she had done when Becky was a child, Mrs. Botsford let her rest her head on her shoulder as Becky fought down a wave of intense nausea, trying desperately not to fall unconscious. Just then, the judge spoke.

"At this time, the prosecutor will now present evidence against the defendant."

Oh, and what evidence there was. Videos, photos, and first-hand accounts were all presented, including a particularly patronizing tale from Mr. Big, who provided a 45-minute, in-depth analysis of his agonizing ordeal. And all Becky could do was watch as the city lined up one by one to turn their back on her. Becky was forced to listen to her felony a thousand times, in a thousand different portrayals, each more gruesome than the last. As the list went on and on, she began to truly hate herself. She despised the world, everyone, and her very being for being so cruel. The more she listened to the various testimonies, the more she felt as if she was caught in a dream, a nightmare, and if she could simply think hard enough, she would wake up. It was so hard to believe it was truly her they were talking about. Surely, she hadn't cried out in rage, hadn't caused her eyes to gleam with the hope of murder, hadn't laughed as she was doused in blood. And still, Becky knew this was the core of her very being, who she was meant to be. There could be no salvation.

Her mother displayed no emotional trauma, her face as silent and resilient as that of a trained soldier. It was then that Becky realized just how formidable and fierce her adopted mother was, and even though she was but a mere human being, she would be stronger than Becky could ever hope to be. No matter how many robberies Becky foiled, her mother would always be the greater hero for waking up every morning, fully aware of the trials and challenges that would await her that day, and still be able to wear a care-free smile. In a way, life was a challenge, and to live through each day, much less with dignity, could be considered nothing short of heroic. Living two lives, never fully immersing herself into the hardships of both, that was wasn't heroic. Becky wasn't a hero, not now, not ever.

As the last witness stepped down from the podium, Mrs. McCallister was wearing a sickening expression of the utmost pride and triumph, as if she had just earned a great reward rather than condemn a 12-year-old girl to a horrible fate.

"And now," Mrs. McCallister declared with a flourish and dramatic flair, "I call WordGirl to the stand!"

Becky gulped. This was when her fate would be sealed.

"Tell me, WordGirl," said Mrs. McCallister, stalking back and forth the courtroom like an animal of prey. "How long have you been on Earth?"

From the podium, Becky had never felt so small and intimidated, surrounded by a web of hate. In a quiet, wavering voice, she replied, "Ten years. I've been on Earth for ten years." The crowd gasped in astonishment.

"Interesting. And how exactly did you happen to come here, so far away from your home?"

"I was two years old at the time," Becky began, her voice trembling with emotion. "In a fit of rage and vengeance, my cousin, Cassandra, set fire to my family's palace. As a dying wish, my mother requested that I leave Planet Lexicon immediately, by any means possible. My cousin was after me, and me alone, for her mother had just handed over the royal title as heiress to the throne of Lexicon to me. And so, I fled my home with Captain Huggyface piloting our spaceship. We were supposed to land on Lexicon's neighboring planet, Solaria, but when our ship violently collided into a meteorite, we tumbled uncontrollably through light-years of space until we crash-landed here, on Planet Earth."

Mrs. McCallister sighed, deep in thought. "That was quite a fascinating story, but do you know what it sounded like to me?" Leaning in, until she was almost nose-to-nose with WordGirl, she menacingly hissed, "A lie. Now, let me tell _you _a story. A little orphan alien girl, seemingly harmless, invades a naïve, defensive planet, sent to collect data to her home planet. This foreign planet intends to use the little girl's valuable information to force entry onto the other planet so they can initiate their own alien sovereignty. Cities burn, countries collapse, people die, all because they placed their trust in a girl prophesized as savior but in reality is Earth's ultimate destroyer. And do you know the title of this story? The truth."

"I am telling the truth!" Becky cried desperately amid the harsh, unforgiving murmurs of a city that betrayed her.

"Oh, I'm sure you put heaps of time and effort into formulating your lie, but you can't fool us anymore. Now that you've been stripped of your powers, allies, and servile citizens, there's no one here to save you. You are nothing expect a devious murderer, and today is the day it is proven."

"Please, it's the truth; it's the truth!"

"Oh really? Well then, what about this 'evil cousin' of yours? I would figure that someone of such formidable vengeance and hatred would surely track you through the galaxies and come after you. Unless, of course, she is nothing more than a figment of your imagination, a reflection of the evil you alone possess."

"She did follow me here. Her name was Miss Power." The crowd gasped collectively, with a few faint of heart comically tumbling of their seats.

"Which brings us back to the matter at hand!" Mrs. McCallister declared. "The horrid, wretched murder of Miss Power, justified by the hero who swore to protect the very same city she ripped apart. Do you admit to killing Miss Power?"

"Yes," Becky replied defiantly, no trace of fear or hesitation.

"Then, do you believe your actions were justified by the alien dictator attempting to seize control of Planet Earth?"

"No. What I did was retched and unforgivable. I was furious beyond belief, for she had razed everything that ever mattered to me, shattered everything I am. I learned my life was a lie, twisted and distorted by her vengeful deceit. I never meant for this trial to clear my name and grant me innocence; rather, I wished for it to be a final goodbye to the world before I die. Citizens of Fair City, I cared for each and every one of you. I loved you all more than anyone could say. You welcomed me into your lives with open arms and hearts of love. You adored me, worshipped me, and now, you scream for my death. I gave up everything I am for your sakes, and yet you demand from me the only thing I have left, my life. I was forever a part of your hearts and dreams, and now you wish to sever that tie with blood. Maybe I'm not the only monster. Maybe all of you need to look into your hearts and tell me all the bitterness and hate that resides. Maybe you need to look into my eyes and tell me whether or not you can see a fragment of your selfsame cruelty swirling in those depths. I am the embodiment of human nature, an embodiment of you. I am the devil with an angel's face. I am the monstrosity you created, and if I burn in Hell, so you too will join me."

As Becky took her seat by her mother, cool, collective, and sinister, the entire room was trapped in stunned speechlessness. Mrs. Botsford peered at Becky with motherly concern, but her daughter refused to acknowledge her, refused to glance in her direction, her chocolate-colored eyes already beginning to glaze over with crimson. It felt wonderfully good to release all that bitterness and resentment, and so it was with a feral contentment that the Lexiconian turned her eyes to the judge, his pallid face as white as his graying hair.

"Er… the jurors will now conference and present a final verdict," the judge stammered, lost for words.

As the jurors began to debate, Becky closed her eyes, trying to slow the furious pounding of her heart. Her memory necklace was now scalding hot, but she welcomed the pain and pressed the heart closer to her skin, wanting the memories, her hidden self, to meld with her flesh and become one. Before she died, she wanted to become the person she was born to be. She needed to know if everything she'd ever felt was a lie.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the judge rose to face the expectant crowd, everyone waiting with baited breath for the verdict. The suspense was almost tangible, hanging heavy in the air and making Becky struggle to breathe. For a split second, Becky truly believed in every part of her soul that she would be pardoned, that there could possibly be forgiveness. As she looked upon the twelve citizens who held her life in their hands, she couldn't help thinking of all the times she'd saved them. _I saved you from Chuck's sandwich press, _Becky recollected, calling each of them out individually. _And you from Tobey's robots. And you from Ms. Question._ She remembered the smiles of admiration and gratitude, the tears of relief and joy. She had saved their lives, so wouldn't they do the same for her? Faith, a spark of hope inside her heart, flared to life in the firm jurisdiction that her beloved city would not abandon her.

Then, that fragile faith shattered.

"The jury finds WordGirl guilty of voluntary first-degree manslaughter and attempted second-degree murder, as well as posing a formidable threat to security of the United States. Her execution will take place tomorrow at noon in front of the city courthouse. Method of execution will be a firing squad…"

As the judge prattled off a meaningless list of legal garbage, the crowd erupted into cheers, and her mother broke down in tears, Becky was only conscious of one thing.

She was going to die.

Becky gazed up at the luminescent moon, huddled in a tight little ball in her jail cell, trying not to think. Her entire body was riddled with sharp stabs of pain from where needles had been brutally injected into her skin. After her trial, Becky had been dragged away to a federal laboratory in New York City. There, she had spent the last three hours screaming in agony as merciless doctors took DNA samples and countless blood samples until Becky felt as if she were a grape drained to her bones. Of course, that was only the tip of the iceberg. After her death, they would surely preform much more drastic and gory mutilations on her corpse. Alone, the combination of blood loss and extended Lexonite exposure was enough to weaken Becky to the point where every second was a struggle to stay conscious. Still, she had to do it, to absorb the full richness of the world before she died.

Amazingly, Becky hadn't shed a single tear over her sentence. To her, it felt as if she was hearing about the passing of a distant relative, fleeting and meaningless. Of course, she was at the point where she didn't even recognize herself. She was indeed perturbed by the eminence of her impending death, but it was separate from her, with her human self in shell-shock fear and horror, while her Lexiconian nature was surprisingly peaceful, even expectant, for that moment when the bullet would pierce her heart and the world would fade away into nothing. Becky didn't believe in the afterlife, at least, not for her kind. She wasn't God's creation, blessed with soul and conscience and love. She knew exactly where she was going when she died, so there was no point in fighting it.

Still, despite her calm acceptance, there was a part of Becky that was furiously pounding with anxiety, clamoring desperately for more time. It felt as if there was something left unaccomplished in her life, something that must be completed before she passed beyond the gate or else everything would be lost. Of course, everything already had been lost. Her planet, friends, family, and city were all gone, and all that had ever defined her was nothing more than whispers of memories long forgotten. As her heart counted down the final hours of her life, Becky knew there was nothing left living for except for the sweet release of death. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was wrong, that there was still a purpose in her life, and that everything lost could be found once more.

Just then, there was the faintest scuffling noise, abruptly followed by an outburst of pain. Driven by curiosity, Becky fought the insistent pounding her head and investigated. Peering through the gleaming red bars into the impenetrable darkness, she cried out in shock as the gloom was instantly broken by two piercingly blue eyes.

"Can't you keep it down?" Tobey hissed, already fumbling with a set of keys to unlock Becky's cell. "Don't you have any idea what I had to do to get down here?"

"T-Tobey?" Becky stammered in stupefaction, for a moment believing the Lexonite had made her delirious, for there was no chance this idiotic dolt could be here. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to give you a second chance."

* * *

**Ah, the love-crazed boy genius saves the day! Honestly, this wasn't my best chapter, but I was rushed to finish it by the deadline. Remember, I am a 13-year-old girl with homework, after school activities, and a social life. My world does not revolve around fanfiction.**

**Next chapter, coming Monday, is the climax of Fall from Grace!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	9. Demons of Fire

**Greetings and salutations! Hope everyone had a good weekend! To start off, here are some promotions of mine:**

**YouTube (WinxFloraHarmonix): I have currently 7 WordGirl episodes up on that account: Chuck with a Sidekick of Brent, Crime in the Key of V, Bummertime, Seeds of Doubt, The Ballad of Steve McClean, and WordGirl Makes a Mistake Parts 1 and 2. Come check them out!**

**Contest: For those of you who haven't heard yet, I am hosting a WordGirl FanFiction Contest. It closes October 18, and I will accept any and all stories. If you wish to submit a story, please PM me. If you wish to view the contest, go to my profile page and look under Communities. Thanks to all participants!**

**Song:  
Becky: Forgotten by Linkin Park**

**Random quote (How I've missed these!):  
Exactly 10:00. Wait a minute. Maybe it's not 10:00. Maybe it's 2:00? Or 8:00? It could even be 5:15! Who knows?! I doubt this old watch knows! I doubt we'll know anything for sure! I just can't be certain of anything anymore!  
– Joe the Guard, "Seeds of Doubt"**

**Here's the climax of Fall from Grace!**

* * *

"No man chooses evil because it is evil. He only mistakes it for happiness, the goodness he seeks."  
– Mary Wollstonecraft

* * *

Becky's eyelids flickered open like a butterfly first testing its wings. Her wrists were throbbing in pain, and she could feel tiny rivulets of blood trickling down her hands. A leaden weight was in her veins, pinning her body to the ground, and every attempt sent violent pain shooting up her nerves. Becky imagined this is what a cross between a hangover and recovering from a car crash would feel like. The ground had been pulled out from under her, the sky was a whirl of dizzying silver stars, and the world around her was a confusing blur of indistinct colors and shapes. Then, with a few blinks, the world adjusted itself into crystal clear vision, featuring a worried Tobey sitting anxiously at her bedside.

"Becky?" asked Tobey tentatively, fearful she would bitterly lash out at him. "Are you okay?"

At first, Becky started with alarm at being addressed by her human name. Then, she glanced down at her apparel and saw she was dressed in her casual green sweater and maroon skirt. Oh well, now that she couldn't go back to Fair City, it didn't really matter if Tobey knew her secret identity.

"Are you okay?" he repeated once more.

Becky shook her head, bringing about yet another wave of nausea. "Where am I?" she asked, exhaustion ringing in her voice.

This is where Tobey took on his usual snarky, sarcastic behavior. "Don't you recognize this place?"

Looking around, Becky eyes were assaulted by an onslaught of red, yellow, and stars, a sure sign this was her Super Secret Spaceship Hideout, which obviously was not so secret anymore. Slowly but surely, she constructed a vague, hazy memory of what happened last night, mainly involving Tobey sneaking her to the outskirts of the city under the cover of darkness. Additionally, she recollected collapsing from exhaustion into Tobey's arms and having to be carried like a child to her spaceship, something she was not fond of looking back upon.

Doubling over in pain, Becky choked out, "Tobey, I need you to get me a dictionary."

"A dictionary?" the boy genius repeated incredulously.

"Yes, a dictionary, are you deaf?" the Lexiconian replied testily. "This is my hideout. I have at least 27 in the library. Just hurry up, okay?"

Shaking his head dubiously, Tobey obeyed, questioning her mental sanity all the way. He returned about ten minutes later, carrying a special edition Websters dictionary from 1806 **(Hehe, you all know where **_**that's **_**from!)**.

Becky hurriedly yanked the ancient tome from his hands without so much as a thank you. Rifling through the yellowing pages, she started prattling off random definitions.

"Exquisite: extremely beautiful and typically delicate. Apprehensive: anxious or fearful that something bad or unpleasant will happen. Tranquil: free from disturbance; calm. Nonentity: a person or thing with no special or interesting qualities–"

"Woah, hang on," Tobey interrupted. "What are you doing?"

Becky shrugged. "I'm from the Planet Lexicon. Definitions neutralize the effects of Lexonite or any other injury."

Tobey stared at her, mouth gapingly open, as if she had just grown three eyes and announced a sudden love for spotted hamsters. "Please don't tell me you're serious."

"It works; that's all that matters," she snapped, clearly annoyed and yet glowing with a healthy radiance from the definitions. Closing the book carefully and setting it on her nightstand, Becky gazed at Tobey with a curious, scrutinizing expression. "Why did you come to save me?"

"Because I love you," he stated blandly, completely throwing out his heart to her. "I despise everything you've done, hate the way you control me, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm simply infatuated with you."

Becky folded her hands in silence, letting his words sink into her soul and melt the barriers of ice placed around her heart. Before, she had never really accepted his love as something real, waving it off as a silly schoolboy crush that would pass away in time. Now, she had finally realized the obvious, what she had been blind to for two years: Tobey loved her. Still, that didn't mean she loved him back. She couldn't love anyone, not now, not ever. That wasn't her destiny. Her destiny was locked away inside the pendant around her neck, so close and yet so unattainable. Now, it was time to embrace it.

"Why did you do it, Becky?" he cried desperately. His eyes, glittering with tears, roamed her searchingly, beseechingly, trying to resurrect some fragment of the girl he loved.

"She destroyed my planet, my parents, everything I've ever cared about."

"No, that lie isn't going to work with me. You killed Miss Power because you wanted to get back something that you never had in the first place. You think you're missing something important, something that defines you, and without it you don't know who you are. You think you're Alexandria Theia, daughter of parents you've never known and princess of a planet you've never been to. But you're wrong. No matter what happened in the past, you're Becky Botsford now. You belong here."

"You don't understand!" cried Becky, holding up her memory necklace for Tobey to see. "Look! Inside this crystal is the truth about where I come from, who I am, and what my destiny is. How am I supposed to continue living as Becky Botsford if I can never let go of the feeling that I'm living a lie? Even if it kills me, I have to find out the truth."

"Then what do you plan on doing?"

That was a good question. Becky understood that she could never go back to her previous life. Fair City had rejected her, torn out her heart and her love. No one, not even her friends and family, had lifted a finger to save her. Still, they had been able to see what she hadn't. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how long she hoped, no matter how much she sacrificed, she could never be human. She could never play, laugh, or love. She could never be saved from herself. The innocence of her world had shattered to reveal the truth, terrible yet painstakingly lovely. It was time to move on, to cut away the choking brambles of weeds that chained her to this life. And there was only one way to permanently annihilate the flame of desire, to destroy her love so she could truly be free: fire.

"The world hates me," Becky declared vehemently, already formulating devious a plan. "Maybe it's time I gave them a reason."

* * *

Tobey ran desperately, gasping for breath, sweat pouring off him by the gallon. Every muscle was burning in agony, his lungs were ready to explode, and fatigue attacked every pore of his body, but he couldn't stop, not now, not if he wanted to prevent the apocalypse. Becky's beautiful, smiling face was branded in his mind as he fought to preserve that innocence and love, to save her from herself. Never before had he wished he had taken track at school, but he supposed it was too late. Still, even without much running practice, he was still flying through the streets of Fair City, propelled by the greatest strength of all: fear.

Finally, he reached the Botsford family home. Barely managing to drag himself along any further, Tobey flung the door open to the astonished faces of Mr. and Mrs. Botsford, TJ, Scoops, and Violet, all clustered together in the living room. Their expressions of fear changed like a unanimous traffic light into relief, and Tobey realized they had expected Becky to come barging through the door. Their love for a girl they had once treasured dearly had been replaced with terror.

"Tobey!" exclaimed Mrs. Botsford in alarm, making room on the couch for the boy to sit. "What happened to you?"

"It's… Becky," he gasped.

"Yes, we know she escaped from prison," said Violet gently. "But we don't know how."

"I… helped her… escape. I wanted… to give her… a second chance."

"Well, judging by the look on your face when you charged through the door, that didn't work out so well," replied TJ bitterly. "Just face it, Lover Boy, she's not the girl you remember. For all we care, she's as good as dead."

"That's not true!" yelled Tobey. "I love her, and my world can't exist without her. I need her, just like she needs all of you. I _saw_ her. She's angry, desperate, and scared, but underneath it all, she's still the same girl I love!"

"Tobey," began Mrs. Botsford sympathetically. "I understand how you must be feeling. Everyone here tried their hardest to make Becky see reason, but the sad fact of the matter is Becky's gone. We can't save her."

"No, she's not!" the boy genius declared defiantly. "We can't give up on her, not after everything she's done for us! Don't you understand how alone she feels? We're the reason she's like this. We turned our backs on her just when she needed us the most. She may have been born as Alexandria Theia, but we're the ones who made her Becky Botsford. We can't expect her to come back to us by herself. Whether she knows it or not, she needs us, she needs you. She needs to know you still love her."

A stunned silence consumed the grieving group as each relayed in their minds fond memories of Becky, memories they cherished, memories they would march to the ends of the world to preserve. There was still a way to save her, to make everything right again, to love her just as she had loved them.

"So much has happened to her," began Scoops tentatively. "She's fallen so far. Do you really think it's possible for us to save her?"

"Maybe it's impossible for Princess Alexandria Theia," said Tobey, his eyes kindling with hope and love. "But Becky can do anything."

* * *

From the cover of forest, Becky stared out onto the Fair City skyline, its pristine windows casting a glittering reflection on the tranquil river below. The towering citadels where set in stark contrast to the bloody, flaming sunrise, a preemptive of the events to come. She drank in every inch, every detail, for she knew it would all soon be destroyed. She remembered soaring freely above those shining citadels, feeling as if she were invincible, on top of the world. She remembered thinking she could have anything she wanted in life. She remembered believing in the power of dreams, the assurance of happy endings, and the dominance of goodness. Now, that frivolous innocence was dead, killed by her own hand.

Finally, Becky understood what had been hidden from her knowledge for so long. It didn't matter what you did, what you thought you deserve. Destiny was cruel, heartless, and unavoidable. She was shackled and controlled by the bond of blood. Faith was short-lived. Trusted people would do nothing but betray you, taking away everything you were. The power of love couldn't save her, for it was a whimsical comfort for the fools of the world. Oh, and what a fool she'd been.

Becky had tried so hard to fit into the human race, to become something she was never meant to be. She had adopted their meaningless beliefs of justice, humanity, and morality. But what good was morality if it didn't protect what was held dearest to the heart? Morality hadn't stopped Sophus and Anastasia Theia from being charred to death for her sake. Morality hadn't prevented her adopted family from shattering into jagged shards. Morality hadn't stopped Scoops, Violet, and Huggy from leaving her. Morality hadn't halted Fair City from turning their backs on her. Morality hadn't spared Becky's beloved Planet Lexicon from being razed into nothing. Morality hadn't stayed Becky's hand as she killed Miss Power.

Her innocence was lost the moment Miss Power's blood had soaked her hands and the piercing knife of truth had shattered her heart, obliterating her childish notions. Of course, it was painful, but it felt irrevocably right, like a gaping hole inside her had been filled, like she had finally accomplished what she was born to do. Becky had finally woken up, but now that she had seen the truth in all its ugly radiance, was it better to stay in the dark?

One thing was for sure, Becky couldn't continue to live like this, caught between the life she was destined to have the one she could never hope to achieve. She was never meant to be angel, an advocate for goodness. It was time for her to sever the ties to her humanity, end the unwinnable fight against herself, and surrender herself to her true Lexiconian nature. And in order to do that, Becky had to destroy everything she ever held dear so she could rise from the ashes of a painful past and embrace her destiny.

Taking out the matchbox from her cape, Becky lit a match, marveling in the beauty of the flames thirsting for death. It quivered as her hand shook with uncertainty. Everyone would die because of her; was there another, better way? No, there couldn't be, and this was no time for hesitation. She would never be safe as long as Fair City lived. Even now, she could see the ones she loved dashing frantically up the hill, screaming her name, although they would never make it in time. Despite everything that had happened in the past, they had to die. Mom, Dad, TJ, Violet, and Scoops; their faces flashed in her mind, complete with lies disguised as memories. Love was a weakness, one she had to obliterate.

It was time to let go of the world and hurtle into another state of consciousness, a deeper part of herself, the unrivaled power of the princess of Lexicon. The match sparkled and crackled with impatience, and without further ado, she held it against a nearby bush, sealing the fate of an entire city in the process.

The flames licked at the fuel eagerly, rising and contorting to form grotesque demons of fire, for this was no ordinary blaze. This was fire from Lexicon, which Becky had unearthed in her hideout. Deformed snakes slithered at her feet, and bats forged from the cursed hearth flew overhead, spreading toxic fumes and burning ashes. Human shaped figures covered in slithering, ink-black vines stood at attention, pitchforks of flame at hand, a nightmare come to life. Their eyes were endless dark tunnels, filled with the horrors of humanity: war, violence, pain, sadness, and hate. There was no mercy, no compassion as these monstrosities barreled through the city under their creator's command. Soon, the streets with slick with blood, ringing with the terrified screams of humans as the army burned them alive, their bodies left to sizzle on the asphalt. A little girl coming home from her very first piano recital was brutally beaten to death by two demons, never to laugh with innocence and grace again. A newlywed couple, filled to the brim with young love, was strangled by a fire-snake, never to spend the rest of their lives together, their love shattered like glass. A homeless teenager screamed with terror as his soul was dissolved into wisps of smoke, leaving nothing but an empty corpse.

Becky had raised Hell on Earth.

From her secluded location in the clouds, Becky could still hear the tortured cries of the citizens, begging for release from the Lexiconian's terrible wrath. Still, she refused to relent, determined to make them suffer as she had. She couldn't stop, not now, determined to satisfy the addiction of murder. She summoned up more and more demons of flame, watching as Fair City crumbled under the might of her power. The deadly blaze was reflected in her eyes, now glazed with red from her ruthlessness and violate hate. She gazed down upon her handiwork with sadistic pride. Finally, Becky had been able to let go and become Princess Alexandria Theia. Finally, she had proved Miss Power was wrong. Becky had won.

Becky fell to her knees, laughing with insanity and triumph, believing that after all this time, she had finally done something to make her real parents proud.

Then, amidst all the panicked screams of nameless, faceless people, she heard the screams of those who Becky, in a long-forgotten era of her life, would do anything for, even sacrifice her life, a sacrifice they were too afraid to make for her. They didn't love her enough. Scoops, Violet, and her adopted family cried out in agony as the flames engulfed them, blood-curdling screams still, even to their last breath, proclaiming the words Becky had longed to hear for ten years: their everlasting love for her.

Now, they were meaningless.

With the defiance of a true Lexiconian warrior princess, she turned her back on the bloody assault, and out of the corner of her eye, she could barely glimpse Becky Botsford screaming in the flames.

* * *

**You're all either screaming, "What the hell, Becky?" or "What the hell, Bella?". I warned all of you there would be arson. Seriously though, weren't you all expecting Becky make up with her family, spare the city, become innocent, blah, blah, blah? I wanted to surprise you, and personally, I think I succeeded. **

**Looking back, that fire was A LOT more violent than I intended.**

**Don't worry, there's one final chapter, although I can't assure you it will have a happy ending. Chapter 10 will be posted on THURSDAY. Yes, not Wednesday, Thursday. I'm going on a super-long field trip on Wednesday to (insert capital of a state) that lasts all day, and no offense, but there's no way this is worth waking up at 4:30 in the morning to post the chapter early.**

**Love to all, **

**Bella **


	10. Princess of the Fallen Stars

**I'm so sorry I didn't update yesterday like I promised! I didn't have enough time to finish on Tuesday, Wednesday was my field trip to (insert capital of state), and the chapter was overall much longer than I planned. Again, I'm really sorry, and I'll try to stick to my deadlines better in the future.**

**Here's the final chapter of Fall from Grace!**

* * *

"Nothing is free. Everything has to be paid for. For every profit in one thing, payment in some other thing. For every life, a death. Even your music, of which we have heard so much, that had to be paid for. Your wife was the payment for your music. Hell is now satisfied."

- Ted Hughes, "The Tiger's Bones"

* * *

Brushing away the sulfuric yellow powder dusting the ground, Becky knelt down and picked up a tarnished piece of jagged turquoise glass. Instinctively, she flinched as she saw her gruesome crimson eyes, even now, three years later, never accustomed to their hostile glare, longing for the frivolous sparkle of her old chocolate-brown hue. Instead, she tilted her head back to watch the red and yellow rings of Planet Lexicon slowly revolve around her home, which was now nothing more than a barren wasteland, a distant echo of its former glory. Despite the endless sea of charred rubble, Becky still found it as beautiful as the day she first arrived on her home planet, when she had been panting desperately as she finished her fifteen-minute hurtle through space and time to reach the only place in the galaxy where she belonged.

After three entire years of roaming the planet, wanting to drink in every detail of her heritage, decimated by Miss Power, Becky had finally arrived at her birthplace, the palace of Lexicon.

Even with the ashes and charred walls, some of its previous grandeur still remained. The ornately sculpted pillars were studded with topaz and jasmine, still radiant despite the layers of grime and debris. Dazzling jewels and rich tapestries were strung tastefully about, but they were nothing in comparison to the smoldering ruins of vengeance, staining their beauty.

After all this time, Becky had been hopelessly tantalized by the belief that the sight of her birthplace would spark a sense of belonging, an irreplaceable feeling of home. She had believed that every winding river and barren mountain chain would bring her a step closer to achieving her destiny. This blind hope had urged her on during those bleak days when there wasn't enough food to scavenge from the decimated rubble and the brutally cold wind tore mercilessly through her thin, silk Lexiconian dress. But now, finally at her long-awaited destination, there was nothing, no tie to her home that singed in her blood and filled her very being. It was meaningless to her, the home of a stranger. But then again, she knew all about not recognizing what was staring her right in the face.

Refusing to let the tears fall, Becky collapsed to her knees and from her pocket pulled out her old WordGirl logo, worn and faded with age. Ever since she had burned Fair City, it hadn't felt right for her, a murderer, to bear a symbol that once signified goodness and justice. She let it sit there, trembling and fluttering in the breeze. Huddled in a little ball on the ground, the universe seemed to tower over her, making her feel hopelessly small and alone. The myriad of stars seemed to mock her, taunting, "What did you expect, little girl? Did you really think anything could possibly erase what you've done? Miss Power won, and you were a fool not to realize it when you had the chance."

And with that, the tears began to spill uncontrollably from Becky's eyes, even though she had learned long ago that they could never make everything right. Her broken cries blended with the forsaken screams of Lexicon's lost souls, forming a tortured melody that echoed throughout the heavens yet unheard, unnoticed.

Apparently, there was no afterlife for Lexiconians; at least, nothing involving happiness and eternal life. From the point of death, a Lexiconian became a shade, a bodiless, tormented shadow, doomed to roam the planet endlessly, never to find peace. After the fire that had destroyed the planet, the shades wandered through the ruined hallways of their previous lives, screaming and moaning with anguishes only they could see. In a way, Becky was like a shade, forever haunted by her grave sins, jolting out of sleep with an agonized cry every night as she pictured her hands stained with blood. In her nightmares, demons of fire would scald her, dousing her in unbearable fire, deaf to Becky's screams and pleas. Then, through the deadly blaze, there would be Miss Power, completely untouched, laughing her head off as blood frothed from her mouth, a ghost of a devilish grin still etched on her face as she dragged Becky into the void of death.

With a miserable sigh, Becky extracted a leather journal and a pen, mementos from her foraging. Flipping to the next blank page, she began to write:

_I never dreamed of a perfect life, just a happy one. I hoped for simple things: a family, a job, to get married to Scoops, to be happy. There were so many dreams meant for a world without fear, hate, or regret, a world where joy is given a chance to thrive and flourish, not throttled by the cruelty of others. I dreamed that heroes would always win, and that there would always be a happy ending, just like a fairytale. Some part of me knew it wasn't true, but it was better, easier to believe. Despite its longevity, it never ceases to amaze me how easily that innocence shattered. I lived in that blissful state of dreaming for ten years, never fully able to see the world and all its hate, a hatred that will forever be a part of me. I suppose should have seen it coming. After all, dreams never live past the hideous truth of the rising sun. No one can sleep forever. Not even in death. Not even in Hell. Not even in my dreams. Dreams will always die._

_In a way, I find it morbidly ironic that my actions, which were supposed to grant me freedom, sentenced me to eternal damnation. I became Miss Power, the one person I hated more than anything. Even though I despise her, I am simultaneously obsessed with her, for she may be the only soul in the galaxy who understands my pain. I see her everywhere: in the flaming embers of my forsaken home, painted in the blood on my hands, and reflected in the gleam of murder in my eyes. We are united by blood and death, for in all intents and purposes, I am worse than dead. For every person's life I greedily took that day, I meticulously chipped away pieces of my soul until I am now little more than a shade. No, worse than a shade. They are comforted by knowing their suffering is not their own, whereas my pain and guilt is mine as much than the tainted blood which flows through my veins. I am a broken, bleeding angel, never to see the sun of salvation again. _

_Oh, Mom, Dad, TJ, Violet, and Scoops, how disappointed in me you must be, looking down from your heavenly bliss upon my suffering. If only you had never found my spaceship 13 years ago, then your pure souls may not be plagued with the false notion of guilt for my demise, even though none of you are at fault. Finally, after three years, I understand. All that time, I thought you were the ones who did not love me, when in fact it was I who did not love you. If I had loved you, I would not have laughed as I watched you burn in the furnace of my vengeance. Please, I beg of you, for your sake as well as mine, please hate me, for I deserve it._

_ My world has become one of utmost pain, grief, and confusion. Everything I felt was a lie, and now that my fantastical illusions have been wiped away, I am left with nothing by guilt. And now, listening to the anguished cries of the forgotten souls, I know one thing for certain:_

_ The flames of Hell are cold as ice._

Tucking the journal into her dress, Becky took a deep breath before tentatively entering the ruined palace, the place where she was supposed to grow up. Crystal chandeliers lay broken and discarded in the hallways, reflecting the feeble light of Asteria, Lexicon's sun, nothing in comparison to the beauty and warmth of Earth's. Despite its decimated state, a lingering magic seemed to radiate from the walls, a hidden secret dying to be revealed. Ashes clung fiercely to everything in sight, creating a fine grainy film covering the immense portraits of Lexicon's past royalty, even one of Miss Power.

The alien dictator was much younger, around the age of twelve, smiling jovially with a genuine happiness as she showed off her sparkling azure ball gown. It was difficult to believe she had destroyed her home just a mere four years later, but then again, Becky had done the same thing at an even younger age. Even today, she wondered what had compelled her cousin to commit such an atrocity. Maybe there wasn't a reason. Maybe it was a natural part of Lexiconian blood, as impossible to eradicate as pulling her heart out of her chest. For the first time in her life, Becky actually felt a small twinge of pity for the person who had razed the planet she loved. Surely, she had experienced the same soul-wrenching pain of having the very world turning against her?

Then, across the room, Becky spotted a looking glass mirror, surrounded by an intricate frame of twirling golden vines. It was the only object in the palace – heck, on Planet Lexicon – that was not somehow affected by fire and negligence. Entranced, Becky reached for the mirror, tentatively pressing her fingers lightly to the cold, unyielding glass, expecting something magical to occur. Nothing. Then, slowly raising her eyes, Becky looked at her reflection.

Even though she knew perfectly well what she looked like, the fifteen-year-old was still startled. She was dressed in a pristine Lexiconian gown, tight-fitting and sparkling gold with red silk ribbons that accentuated her curves. Her glossy black hair fell upon her bare shoulders in gentle waves, woven with scavenged strands of gemstones. Still, all of this supposed beauty was diminished in the presence of her bloody crimson eyes, still burning with the fire that had killed everyone she loved. Those eyes transformed her entire image, instead reflecting the face of a stranger.

Just then, Becky's super hearing picked up the faintest noise from behind her. Turning around defensively, she set her wary gaze upon the one person she least expected to see ever again. He was supposed to be dead.

"Tobey?" Becky stuttered, her voice cracked from lack of use. "You're… alive?"

He was just the same as Becky remembered, though with few minor changes. He was wearing a faded pair of blue jeans and a navy blue T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of Fair City High School, an eagle surrounded by a wreath. Despite his clothes, he stood in front of Becky with the tangible defiance of a soldier, without a trace of fear for his life. His sandy blond hair fell tousled just above his eyes, which were now a generic, contact-sparkling blue, though its beautiful radiance was not dimmed in the least. Those wondrous eyes were searching her beseechingly, peering into the depths of her tainted soul, desperate to find some remnant of Becky Botsford, not knowing that part of her had been charred to bleeding ashes three years ago, never to be resurrected.

"Yeah, brilliant observation," Tobey said smarmily before flinching under the hostile gaze of Becky's crimson eyes. Regaining his composure soon afterward, he continued. "And before you kill me with your ultimate death stare, there's someone you might want to meet." Stepping to the side, he revealed Huggy, still dressed in his old pilot's uniform. He was shyly smiling, but his eyes were guarded, expecting an attack.

Becky's eyes widened, glistening with crimson tears. She wanted to speak, but she couldn't find the words. Silently, she fell to her knees and bowed her head, creating a screen of hair around her face, leaving her neck exposed.

"What are you doing, Becky?" asked Tobey worriedly.

"What I've been awaiting for three years," the Lexiconian princess replied serenely. "I'm waiting for you to show me the greatest mercy of all. I'm waiting for you to kill me."

Tobey took a step back, throwing up his hands in shock. "Becky, why would you want that?"

"Because it hurts so much, I can't take it anymore!" she cried, turning the ground to blood with her tears. "I know I don't deserve such an easy release, but please, if you ever loved me, take a sword and drive it through my heart."

Tobey knelt down until he was eye to eye with Becky. His crystal blue eyes were pulsating with an undisguised pain and suffering. "No," he said firmly, taking hold of her hand. "Becky, for three years since Huggy and I escaped the fire, we've been searching for a way to help you. I moved to Boston with my mother to research a way to find you, Huggy fixed your spaceship, and now we're here because we love you. You just won't let yourself listen. I know, somewhere in there, you can hear me. I can't live without you. Come back to me. Remember."

"No!" screamed Becky, covering her ears. "Memories, both forgotten and unforgotten, destroyed me! I don't care about the truth anymore! I don't want to learn about my past! I want to be free! I. WANT. TO. DIE!"

Yanking the memory pendant from her neck, Becky threw it to the ground, her bloody tears mixing with the shattered crystal fragments. The fire, tinged with the faint blue luminesce of her memories surrounded her, caressing her tenderly, melting into the pores of her skin until her entire body was radiating with flames. The fire sparked and danced across her arms, ignited at her fingertips, illuminated her hair a fiery gold, and leaked into her eyes until the were white hot. Still, somehow she couldn't hear the terrified screams of Tobey or Huggy, or feel the scalding flames. In surprise, Becky fell backwards, straight into the mirror. Amazingly, the glass didn't shatter; rather, it turned to a clear liquid, allowing her to enter its depths. The golden vines around the frame ignited and came to life, their tendrils pulling Becky down, leaving her trapped in the mirror.

Memories from the first two years of Becky's life came streaming through her head. At first, they started out as a meaningless blur of colors, sounds, and shapes from her early weeks of babyhood when she lacked comprehensive abilities. Slowly, those indistinct images evolved into fully detailed pictures and fragments of scenes, also associated with a variety of emotions. Becky saw an image of her younger self, laughing as she fell into a patch of brightly colored flowers in the palace backyard. She witnessed herself trying to reach an eye-catching tome, written in Lexiconian, from the highest bookshelf, only to be scooped into her father's arms and flown to the book. A shy young girl, presumably a servant, braided shimmering pearls in her hair as the younger Becky squealed in excitement for her first ball. The memories portrayed the exhilaration of first learning how to fly, the terror of encountering a shade in the Halls of the Forgotten, and most of all, the security of having two parents who loved her.

Gradually, the memories halted, leaving Becky crying tears of joy.

Finally, she knew who she truly was.

This blissful revelation was short-lived, for the recollections suddenly began to rewind, with Becky hurtling uncontrollably into an unbearable deluge of voices and images. She wanted to scream, but there was no air in the mirror. Her heart flew into her throat as she was pierced with a freezing cold as she hurtled deeper and deeper into the endless void.

After several moments of utmost terror, the void leveled out, and Becky fell trembling on her hands and knees. Getting up, she could see nothing, the darkness an impenetrable cloak, almost solid. The lingering sparks of fire clinging to her skin soared away from her, the flames growing and growing into an inferno, with a curious scene inside its depths: a memory, one that could alter her past and complete transform her future.

_Under the cover of a violent downpour of rain, Sophus and Anastasia Theia wove their way through the ever-thinning crowd of Lexiconian citizens returning home from a day at work. In one last attempt to cling to day, the sun Asteria shone her final rays of light onto Planet Lexicon before disappearing below the horizon, taking with her the sparkling radiance of the world's crystalline buildings. But the two Lexiconians took no notice of this as they continued onward to their destination, looking side to side hurriedly as one does before doing something forbidden. As Becky peered closer, she saw her mother cradling a tiny bundle in her arms: Becky as a baby._

_ Finally, the couple reached their destination, a dreary cave on the outskirts of the Lexicon capital of Vallisto. Hurrying inside to escape the rain, a crimson red in this world as if the sky were bleeding, they trekked on until Sophus suddenly stopped. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he declared regally in Lexiconian, "May the stars bless you, Sacred Sage of Dras-Animi."_

_ "May the sacred fires always protect you, Daughter of the Moon of Wisdom," intoned Becky's birth mother._

The fifteen-year-old Becky was held spellbound by hearing her native language for the first time. The words were as fluid as a fresh stream, with none of the harsh sounds of English. Lexiconian words held tremendous power yet danced off the tongue with a subtle grace and eloquence. Pictures were woven into her mind from the words, clear and real and beautiful. This was the language of the stars, a binding melody that held the universe together, holding the true nature of the world in its depths. Snapping out of her stunned trance, Becky focused her attention back onto the scene playing the fire.

_At their greeting, a young lady emerged from the darkness, nothing but candlelight guiding her way. She was far beyond beautiful, with her wide, innocent hazel eyes, flawless fair skinned tone, and glamorous golden hair that seemed to be woven from the stars. She was clothed in a billowing golden gown, the kind seen on the runway at the Emmy Awards. She had a staid, gentle demeanor about her, accentuated by her delicate build. The woman would seem harmless in every possible way, but there was something about her that could not be put into words, a grand, hidden power waiting to be unleashed. Becky had no doubt that if this mysterious lady wanted to strike down her birth parents, lightning would rain down from the heavens at her vengeful command. _

_ Upon seeing this lady, Sophus and Anastasia Theia, close relations to the queen of Planet Lexicon, knelt down before her, Anastasia still cradling Becky in her arms._

_ "We are humbly honored by your presence, Lady Animi," said Sophus, his ivory black hair, the same exact color as Becky's, falling into his warm hazel eyes._

_ "Your reverence is unneeded," replied Animi soothingly. "From before the moment you entered my sanctuary, you were already in the favor of my moon, a blessing denied to you for so long." Her eyes became sad, an unstoppable force consuming the world, and Becky had an almost overwhelming desire to reach her hand through the flames and comfort this symbol of beauty and goodness, even if she had to march to the ends of the world._

_ "We take full guilt for beginning the War of Shattered Harmony," admitted Anastasia shame-facedly, trying to become as small as possible. "My husband and I were insatiably greedy for power, so much so that we were more than willing to take the life of my own sister, Daphne, your blessed one. We tore apart your world as well as our own. Though nothing we can do can rectify our mistake, we sincerely deplore our actions and beg for mercy."_

_ "Have peace, my children," Animi comforted. "I know you are destined to raise Lexicon to an even greater glory, but first, you must begin to forgive yourself. You must accept there is nothing you can do to change the past. You can never fully erase the pain you inflicted, simply because it would only do more harm. Evil cannot be torn away from us, for the moment it makes contact with our souls, it becomes one with us. We cannot hope to tear it away, nor would we want to, for our every action, whether good or evil, defines us. It is better to bear the taint of sin and know our very essence than to journey through life unscathed yet carry the burden of an empty destiny. Do not hope to escape it, for it the very core of Lexionian nature, and all the more binding because of it."_

_ "Yes, and that is why we came to you," said Sophus, gesturing to the newborn baby in Anastasia's protective embrace. "After so many years, we have finally been blessed with the bountiful gift of a child, a baby girl. We have sought you out so that we may learn of our daughter's fate, for you are the Daughter of the Moon of Wisdom. You can speak the language of the stars and dance in the realm of Fate, so we beseech you in our plight. We couldn't bear it if we as parents put any stain on her innocent soul with our crimes. It may be too late for us, but she deserves a life free from the burden of our guilt."_

_ A slight, amused smile formed on Lady Animi's lips. "Ah, of course," the woman said sagely, her voice tinkling like chimes. "The Ceremony of Constellations. I find it a trifle humorous that every member of the Royal Family of Lexicon seeks me out in the utmost secrecy, ashamed of the persistent superstition. Then again, I should hardly be surprised. Our civilization has reached the point where my very existence is little more than legend, too caught up in the business of reality to peer into the depths of the world and catch glimpse of me, hidden in plain sight. And yet, you have found me, proving your faith is strong and intentions are beneficial. So, I shall grant you your wish."_

_ Gesturing to the baby version of Becky, Animi respectfully bore the child into her arms, the arms which had the might to part seas and smite down entire cities were now cradling a newborn baby with a gingerliness, as if she was afraid the child would shatter under her power. Even through the fire, Becky saw a lingering grief in the woman's eyes, a yearning for something she could never have. Becky thought of how lonely she must be with no one to share her sorrows and joys. Then, it hit her: Animi could not bear a child._

_ Animi tenderly set the baby on a marble altar, encrusted with strange runes that even Becky, a Lexiconian, could not comprehend. Their sweeping curves and majestic arches suggested a tangible yet ethereal grace, gifted with the potency to obliterate planets, to darken the stars, to peer into the manifolds of the distant unknown with confidence._

_ The baby Becky was perfectly tranquil, smiling at the world with innocent bliss, blind and deaf to the painful screams of loss and guilt. The world was an awful, cruel place, and yet this girl still possessed the ability to smile. It was so perfect, so beautiful, that the older Becky's eyes welled with tears. _

_ Folding her hands, Animi murmured a series of unintelligible phrases, each echoing with authority as the Daughter of Dras-Animi unfolded the complex myriad of constellations to reveal the truth._

_ A blinding white light radiated from the runes, the beams forming abstract formations of connected lines, each point glowing with the strength of a star. A mighty wind shrieked and a devastating inferno flared to life, but Becky, now asleep, was deaf to it all. Sophus and Anastasia cried out in fear for their only child but refrained from interrupting the ceremony. Animi showed no alarm, her eyes now two milky white orbs reflecting the light of Lexicon's fifth moon. The smoldering cinders and plumes of smoke began to form vague silhouettes, pulsating neon blue. After studying the images intently, Animi clapped her hands, causing the fire to form a single five-pointed star before dissipating without a trace._

_ Trembling, the two parents raised their eyes and looking at Animi, wordlessly pleaded for a verdict._

_ As she handed Becky back to a terrified Anastasia, Animi smiled. "She has a gentle, pure, and good heart, but unfortunately, this will not be enough to save her. Your family shall be torn to shreds, with her being the only survivor. She will fall to the ashes, plagued with your same guilt and anguish, burdened with destiny. Still, there is hope for her."_

_ "Then we will call her Alexandria," declared Anastasia confidently, bursting to the seams with love. "Alexandria, whose name means Princess of the Fallen Stars, for a light as true and lovely as that of a star can never truly die."_

And with that, the vision dissipated, the fire twisting and morphing to for the image of a teenage girl, someone Becky would know anywhere: herself.

But this clone was much different from the original. While clothed in the same shimmering gold gown, the clone Becky also wore Planet Lexicon's crystal diadem. The clone's face was alive with joy and laughter, her cheeks rosy and dimpled. But most of all, her eyes were Becky's chocolate brown, a color she had dearly missed, sparkling once again with innocence. Without the taint of bloodlust and murder in her eyes, Clone-Becky was the ideal of happiness and serenity.

"Hello, Becky," the Clone-Becky greeted merrily, leaving Becky gaping with her mouth hanging open like an idiotic dolt. Then, without any warning, she gripped her doppelganger's arm and shot like a bullet through the dark void to a bright spot of light. Her touch was burning hot, yet reassuring, and Becky couldn't help but trust her. Finally, Clone-Becky released her hand when the two twins were in a shimmering haze of light, as if they were underwater, caught in a perfect state of heaven.

Caught in a dream-like state, Becky was still stunned by her replica's sudden apparition.

"How… how can you be me?" stuttered Becky.

"Well, I'm not _exactly _like you," stated the copy simply, as if this was the most natural phenomenon possible. "I'm the version of you who never left Planet Lexicon. I never killed Cousin Cassandra. I lived in a lavish state of luxury as Princess Alexandria Theia for fifteen years. Unfortunately, I don't truly exist. However, I can, if you let me." She gestured to her glittering headpiece. "If you wear the diadem of Lexicon, you can erase everything and start anew. You can turn back time, save our parents, save our home," she declared, bursting with longing and promise. "You can save everyone and build a new Lexicon, with you as the shining leader of it all."

Clone-Becky's promise was tantalizingly promising. She looked so cheerful, so full of hope; surely, the same would hold true for Becky if she merely left behind a life where she didn't belong and embraced her true heritage. She was just about to take hold of the diadem when she hesitated, cautious of trickery.

"What's the catch?" Becky demanded suspiciously.

Clone-Becky's lip quivered in amusement. "Well, you won't remember anything from your life as Becky Botsford, but of course, that's meaningless. After all, you've already destroyed everything holding you to that life, haven't you?"

Had she? Becky had burned Fair City to ashes, killed everyone she loved, and yet somehow they were still there, memories bashing at her mind, unable to be erased even after their creators had passed. Becky hated, utterly deplored her life as Becky Botsford, or at least those last few days before her exile. Still, she remembered what Animi had told her parents:

_You must accept there is nothing you can do to change the past. You can never fully erase the pain you inflicted, simply because it would only do more harm. Evil cannot be torn away from us, for the moment it makes contact with our souls, it becomes one with us. We cannot hope to tear it away, nor would we want to, for our every action, whether good or evil, defines us. It is better to bear the taint of sin and know our very essence than to journey through life unscathed yet carry the burden of an empty destiny._

If Becky turned her back on Becky Botsford, wouldn't she feel that same empty destiny, longing for a greater potential, a hidden self waiting to be revealed? She would continue this endless passing from Becky to Alexandria for all eternity, whether she liked it or not.

Becky glanced over her shoulder at Tobey and Huggy, still on the other side of the mirror, panicking as they saw Becky trapped inside. Even though she hated one and the other betrayed her, could she ever bear to let them go? Did she truly have to know everything about herself, or did she know enough to come to terms with who she was?

She had been born of one world and loved in another, never fully immersed in both. Now was the time to choose between the life she knew and the life she always yearned for. Now was the time to choose between her chosen destiny and a forged pathway to the horizon of the future. No matter what, Becky 'WordGirl' Botsford or Princess Alexandria Theia would die today, but unlike Miss Power, this murder would finally set her free. Maybe there was a way to make everything right.

It was an easy choice.

Reaching out, Becky took a firm hold on her princess diadem, warm and friendly in her hand. Then, with an unrivaled determination, sealing her fate forever, she shattered it, letting the glittering fragments of a destroyed destiny fall like rain onto the disowned princess. Clone-Becky screamed in terror as she melted into nothing, a wisp of a forgotten dream. The real Becky suddenly opened her eyes to find herself lying on the floor, covered with shards of glass from the broken mirror.

Tobey looked at her in an awed, triumphant wonder, as if he had first truly seen the sun. "I-I heard what you did," he said, not bothering to hide his tears of joy. "I can't imagine how hard that choice must have been, but thank you."

"It was the easiest choice I ever made."

Huggy looked at Becky curiously, with a beaming pride the Lexiconian had yearned for during all those years. "You truly are your parents' daughter."

Becky smiled, feeling oddly satisfied and complete. It wasn't happiness; no, it was something much better: love. "I know," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Now, you can make a new destiny for yourself," said Tobey. "But I want you to know you don't have to do it alone."

Tobey reached out his hand, which Becky took gratefully, gasping when their hands met.

For the first time in three years, Becky's hands were free of blood.

* * *

**And they lived happily ever after. The end. Gosh, compared to Chapter 9, that was pretty darn cheery. See, lightball, I squeezed in a happy ending after all!**

**So, overall, what did you think of the story? I hope you liked it! I'll resurrect Ashes of a New Horizon about a week from today, just to have time to get my thoughts together.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed! You'll always have a special place in my heart!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


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